J LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. J 



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I UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. | 



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Flights ami Fancies. 



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MERRITT CROMWELL. 




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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by 

Merritt Cromwell, 
in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



" What does his wife say to these goings on ?" 

IN ANSWER TO ALL INQUIRING FRIENDS 

/ do hereby dedicate this little volume to my wife, 
who, endozved with rare good sense, and confidence in 
me, feels that all my VAGARIES have resulted in nothing 
but a fund of innocent amusement, with the exception 
of calling forth these HORRID 

"FLIGHTS AND FANCIES." 



f^tfSdsj. 



Reader, in this book combined, 

Mirth with sentiment you'll find ; 

Whether 'tis wisdom or all fudge, 

Read, and be yourself the judge. 

For nearly thirty years, at times, 

I've dabbled with the muse in rhymes, 

And stationery, wasted more, — 

Most likely, than they'll pay me for. 

Sometimes, as streams they gushing run, 

And sense forget in gurgling fun ; 

When oft I've lain awake of nights, 

To set the foolish things to rights ; 

And often, after hours of care, 

Pages had to rip and tear. 

Again as labor'd as the snail, 

Who progress marks with slimy trail, 

I've worked in vain, in proper dress, 

Some thought or feeling to express, 

Till doubly hypped with toil and ire, 

I cast the abortion in the fire. 

And then, again, a strange delight 

Steals o'er my senses, as I write. 

When words, with thought and feeling chime, 

And dance and bubble into rhyme ; 

When all we know, or hope, or fear, 

Expression can give voice to here, 

When every throb and pang we feel, 

The pen to others doth reveal, 

Yes — then it is a joy to me, 

This little gift of minstrelsy. 

Ye pages,— go transmit the spell, 

Bid mirth explode, — bid feelings well; 

I've said enough,— this lingering cloys, 

(jro do your best to make a noise. 



CONTENTS. 

Page. 

OurCitySires 13 

The Times 15 

Love's Argument 18 

Anacreontic 19 

My Mistake 20 

History 21 

The Fly Fisher's Song 23 

The Sport's Lament 24 

On a Bend 25 

Scandal 27 

Spring 34 

Ode to Dyspepsia 35 

Indecision 36 

Jilted 37 

The Bowl 38 

Doctor Dose 40 

Impatience 51 

Persuasion 52 

The Declaration 53 

Devotion 54 

Lemonade 55 

Reassurance 56 

The German's Complaint 57 

Catching a Salmon 59 

A Servant Maid's Adventure 61 

A Picture 64 

The Secret 68 



x CONTENTS. 

Page. 

Summer is Coming ■ 69 

Zeke and Sarah 71 

Wine Versus Poison* 73 

My Pipe 75 

The Parting Glass 77 

Impromptu 78 

Anticipation 79 

Passion 80 

The Comparison 81 

Love 81 

The Invitation 82 

To 84 

To Mrs. M. S. C* 85 

To Mrs. V n 86 

Neptune's Dues 87 

Fortress Monroe 89 

To Mrs. V n 91 

To Ella 92 

The Ring* 93 

The Trade to Learn* -. 96 

To '. 97 

To 98 

To Mrs. 98 

One of The Boys 99 

Blind Brook 100 

Unfathomable 103 

Resignation 104 

To '. 105 

To Rosetta 107 

To 108 

Night-caps 109 



CONTENTS. xi 

Page. 

Mickey Mc'Coy 110 

Old Ocean 112 

On a Dish of Fried Flounders 113 

My Dream 114 

The Cigar*. . . . 115 

The Rose 116 

To 116 

To 117 

To My Wife 118 

Let Us be Gay 119 

Acrostic 120 

Annerbeller Burde 121 

Song, Come Lads Fill Away 123 

A Reverie 124 

Retrospective* 125 

Pumpkinville News 126 

The Rebuff 131 

I Knew by the Puddles* 132 

To Mrs M. S C* 133 

Lost 134 

Forty-Six 135 

The Adventures of Phelem O'Slaughterdy 136 

T.Mrs.V n 142 

A Pastoral Duet 143 

Voices of Spring* 145 

Sunlight 146 

Cousin May 147 

To Mr. and Mrs. M. P. D 148 

A Catastrophe 149 

To Miss Lydia Thompson 150 

A Warning to Sportsmen 152 



xii CONTENT*. 

Page. 

The Deluded Smoker 153 

Impromptu 154 

Dining 155 

Oyster Stew 156 

My Valentine 156 

To Etta 157 

Logic 159 

To Clara Louise 160 

To Julie 161 

To My Washerwoman 163 

The Girls ... 164 

To Fannie 169 

To Prof. S. T. Frost 170 

A Fancy 171 

My Boat 172 

The Girls that "We Loved Long Ago 173 

To Alice 175 

Lines Written in Miss G n's Album 181 

Lines Written in Mrs C n's Album 182 

Lines Written in Miss O'Leary's Album 182 

To Lellie 183 

To the Misses 184 

To the Misses 187 

A Simile 196 

My Vision 197 

To Mr. and Mrs Henry Held 198 

Punctuation in Fly Time 199 

Nonsense 200 

Wisdom 20i! 

Cats 203 

Epigrammatic 205 

Mother Goose, continued 207 

To Henry Bergh, Esq 209 

Woman's Rights 210 

Past, Present, and Future 214 

Pieces marked with a star, (*) have appeared in the Newspapers. 







^5-?^S3 







Our ;Gity Sires 



Jir. — " Yankee Doodle. 
rTTnWe»t» 1852 w- '53.1 



OD save the lusty Aldermen, 
These Fathers of the City; 
Tho' people call them dirty rogues, 
Tis only to be witty. 



They say they rob the city funds; — 
'Tis purely an invention; — 

For God knows every Alderman, 
Is honest in intention! 



Enormous bribes they'd have you think, 
These upright men will pocket; 

And when a city grant is sold, 
Like Peter Funks, they mock it. 



14 OUR CITY SIRES. 

That when a rowdy voter 's sent 
To serve his time in jail, 

These kindred hearts a brother see,. 
Entitled to leg bail. 

On one dear Sire the Sheriff seized, 
And in the tombs confined him; — 

But to the Habeas Corpus act, 
The blackguard soon resign'd him. 

Heaven bless the Aldermen ! 

From tax-payers defend them : 
The Hypochondriacs, I dare say, 

To Beelzebub would send them ! 

Yankee Doodle, Doodle do, 
Yankee Doodle dandy, 

Yankee Doodle keep it up, 
With city pap be handy. 




f HE flMES. 



[ Written in the year 1855. 1 

these are most wonderous times, 
And this is the strangest of nations ; 
Here the Fishes are coining their dimes, 
By their spiritual manifestations. 

The Foxes will call up a ghost, 
The order of things so reversing ; 

Tho' a man be as dead as a post, 

In a moment they'll have him conversing! 

And many go crazy, 'tis said — 
For the idea's, truly, most shocking, 

To think that a person who's dead, 

Should under your tables be knocking. 

Now the Bloomers have taken a flight. 

And the length of their skirts so diminished, 

They'd have been a remarkable sight, 

If with trousers they hadn't have finished! 



16 THE TIMES. 

We've a quack on the cold water plan, 
His wife, it is said, is another; 

Tis known that he's but half a man, 
And she bloomers to make up the other. 



They at Winchester opened a house, 
Where astonishing cures were effected; 

Patients went in as lean as a mouse, 
And came out in a way unexpected. 



We've a notable character here, 
Who, by of your cranium's feeling, 

Can tell if you incline to small beer, 
Or if you're addicted to stealing. 

If in business you wish to succeed, 
You have only with him to consult ; 

From your bumps he will learn what you need, 
And can tell you at once the result. 

Or, if you to marriage incline, 
To him your intended you show ; 

Your interest you then can resign, 
If her bumps shouldn't suit you, you know. 



But the wonder of this wondrous age, 
Is that king of the showmen, P. T. B. ; 



THE TIMES. 



17 



If you'd put yourself into a cage 
Phineas, what fun it would be. 



"" What is it," Woolly Horse, and Mermaid, 
White nigger, fat woman and all ! 

"You'd cast everyone in the shade; 
The whole Yankee nation would call. 




fovE's Argument. 



Pliilis, what makes you so coy ? 

Of my heart you're the pride and the joy 
Why take it amiss 
When I offer a kiss ? 
Oh ! hlame not a little blind boy ! 

For you know my dear girl, Love is blind; 
Don't use him, I pray you, unkind; 

Do what I desire — 

'Tis all he'll require — 
And his lessons quite pleasant you'll find. 

When I offer a kiss, why then you 
Should resent it, by giving me two; 

For instance, here's one — 

Now a couple I've won — 
No — another; the last was askew. 

There, — what is the damage done, pray ? 
You have only to do as I say, 

And we'll live in delight, 

From morning till night, 
And thus the boy's wishes obey. 



Anacreontic. 



RING me, boy, a flowing bowl, 
To drive the vapors from my soul; 
"Why should we with grief repine, 
When joy is sparkling in our wine ? 
Ne'er was soul so charged with care, 
But wine could cast its sunbeams there; 
Trust in Bacchus— long and deep 
Drink, and sorrow soon will sleep. 
His flaming wreath is o'er my brow, 
A blissful thrill steals thro' me now : 
The goblet fill without delay, — 
Haste, ere this glory fleets away ! 
My soul throws off her bonds of earth, 
Quickening to celestial birth, 
While my brain with fancy free, 
Soars beyond mortality. 



Y MISTAKE. 



KSSIj N"CE, I will own, 1 was smitten 
l aBac! Willi a nymph who'd a killing dark f\v 
But the jade, she soon gave me the mitten — 
The cause you'll discover by-and-by. 

One morning I called on my charmer, — 
She was dressed in a sweet disabille; 

When my warmth did so greatly alarm her, 
That she vow'd I was using her ill. 



Then down on my knees did I tumble, 
And begged her at once to be mine ; 

My fortune, which none could call humble, 
With my heart, to her care I'd resign. 



She answered she thought me most clever, 

An exceedingly nice young man ; 
But her hand, she could give me, no — never, 

She'd already engaged it to an interesting indi- 
vidual by the name of Dan — Dan Jones. 



MISTORY. 

EAR Mr. Vanvechten my thanks please except them, 
For the whiskey so kindly presented; 
An " eye opener" you say's a good thing in its way, 

As often has been represented. 
There ne'er was a sage, in the good olden age, 

But delighted in eating and drinking. 
You in history find, every man with a mind 

Of his own, was of our way of thinking. 
Alexander the Great, as he sat all in state, 

Would toss down the wine by the bottle, 
And never give up, till the fumes of the cup, 

Had possession complete of his noddle. 
King Solomon, wise, (or else the book lies) 

Was addicted to wine and to women. 
Old Xoah got tight who Ham found in the plight, 

And caught for his joking, a trimming. 
While Plato Divine was partial to wine, 

And sipped it with true philosophy ; 
Anacreon too, from the bright cup drew, — 

It assisted him greatly in prosody. 
The sage Aristotle, was a friend to the bottle, 

And from it he drew inspiration ; 
Both Pompey and Cato, would every day go, 

To drink to the health of the nation. 



22 HISTORY. 

Then fill up the bowl to each thirsty old soul, 

Who to regions above have departed; 
I wonder how there, the wine will compare, 

With that which they drank ere they started! 
Fill up then, fill up, joy swims in the cup; — 

We'll toast every sage in a brimmer, 
The heart it makes light, the intellect bright;— 

Here's a health to each defunct old sinner ! 




f HE f LY f ISHER'S foNG. 



N the morning early, 
When the skies are pearly, 
Ere the sun has risen 
From his eastern prison, 
We anglers haste away. 



To the streamlet, purling, 
In light eddies whirling ; 
Where with beauties gleaming, 
Speckled fry are teeming, 
Leaping for their prey, 

The fly now casting lightly, 
Lending motion sprightly, 
Nature's self assuming, 
To distraction dooming 
Many a goodly Trout. 

There, away, they're breaking, 
Glassy circlets waking; 
The lure they seize so greedily, 
The straggle ending speedily, 
And we drag them out. 



£B 



I he Sports "Lament. 



II ! once I had money in plenty, 
And sported a killing mustache ; 
But now all my pockets are empty, — 
For one day I came down with a crash. 



Friends I could count by the dozen, 
Who nattered and borrowed my cash, 

Was a trump with aunts, uncles and cousins, 
Until I came down with a crash. 

To parties no more I'm invited 

By aunts, who once begged me to come; 
By uncles and cousins I'm slighted, 

Who once wished to call me their chum. 

Folks whisper when by them I'm stalking, 
" Poor Blazeup he's all gone to smash; " 
Friends would not be seen with me talking, 
Since the day I came down with a crash. 

Beware of the friends that you cherish, 
All you who are cutting a dash; 

Their friendship will certainly perish, 
The day you go down with a crash. 



|?n a Send. 

•so & 

HOW I'll relate, if you'll but wait, 
What happened to a man of state ; 
It seems that he with two or three, 
Went out one night upon a spree; 
Oft times they'd stop to take a drop, 
And many a champaign cork did pop ; 
On spreeing bent, with dire intent, 
A gulph, — and down a bottle went. 
Up spoke our friend, this night shan't end ; 
Till a couple of dozen down we send; 
With right good will, they drink and fill, 
And swallow down the wine to kill. 
The deed is done; the drunk has come; 
They reel and stagger every one. 
One's on all fours, — one loudly roars, — 
And one, under the table snores ! 
Our friend takes to lunching, 
A candle end munching, 

And after dessert, goes the snorer to punching, 
Who ready to bust, with indignity just, 
Jumps up and makes at our hero a thrust; 
Now at it they go, blow upon blow, 
While the claret's beginning profusely to flow ; 
That hit was placed neatly, it has floor'd him completely, 
And to the spittoon he's retreated discreetly. 



26 ON A BEND. 

The fight is now over; but yet far from sober, 

They smash everything in the room they discover. 

Hearing the din, the owners rush in, 

And kicking them out of the house now begin; 

'Tis a wild stormy night, — disagreeable quite, — 

I think very few will envy their plight; 

Thro' the slippery street, with unsteady feet, 

Stopping to hug every lamp-post they meet, 

Hoping to find landlords more kind, 

They stagger on cursing the ones left behind. 

Lord what a scream ! what can it mean ? 

'Tis one of them bawling a chorus 'twould seem; 

A policeman nigh, did an argument try; 

When floored by a mighty bad hit in the eye, 

With rage confounded, his club he sounded, 

When suddenly by M. P's our friends are surrounded; 

They bravely show fight, but are worsted despite, 

And in the watch-house pass the rest of the night; 

A word in your ear — if the ' ' lock up " you fear, 

Beware how you travel at night with a spreer; 

Don't take it unkind, that I put you in mind, 

The thing never pays; if you try it you'll find. 




^CANDEL. 



Scene. — Miss Backbite peeping through the blinds into a win. 
dow over the way. 
Enter — Miss Blowhard. 



iss Backbite. — Miss Blowhard, why how do you do ? 

I'm exceedingly glad you drop'd in; 
I have so much to tell you that's new, 

I scarcely know where to begin. 
To-day I was out for a walk, 

When who do you think I should meet ? 
Bill Puff up, who stop'd me to talk; 

The creature was got up quite neat. 
He related a bit of a joke, 

That struck me as drollish and rich, 
'Twas about that young ninny Tom Stroke, 

Who married the old widow Fitch. 
It seems that this boy of a groom, 

On their grand wedding tour, one day, 
At a hotel had ordered a room, 

Intending some time there to stay; 
When the landlord come bowing polite, 

And asked should he show him another, 
Or if he preferred it, he might 

Have a bed in the room with his mother ! 



28 SCANDEL. 

You have heard of old Greeneye, I know, 

Who so jealous is of his young wife, 
For fear she should pick up a beau, 

He is worried near out of his life. 
Bill said that himself and a friend 

In a bar-room were smoking one night; 
His companion had been on a bend, 

And perhaps, was a little bit tight; 
When old Greeneye came in with his boy, 

And Bill's friend with a hiccup of glee. 
Roared, he wished Bill an ocean of joy, 

And swore the lad had his nose to a " t. 

Such a curious story I heard, 

It happen'd down here to Miss Fleet; 
The most wonderful thing on my word; 

I know you will think it a treat ! 
One day, with her father, the Squire, 

A stranger came down to the place, 
Whom Miss Fleet did greatly admire, 

For the hair that he wore on his face. 
This the stranger had seen at a glance, 

And he wished for no better beginning; 
For he thought it an excellent chance, 

An heiress and fortune of winning. 
A noble, he said, in disguise, 

From treacherous foes he had fled; 
Eluding the government spies, 

For a price had been set on his head; 



SCANDEL. 29 

Pursued by the blackest of fate, 

He was forced from bis kindred to roam, 
Likewise a tremendous estate, 

Worth millions of money, at home. 
For treason he had been condemn'd, 

Tho' his innocence soon would be proved, 
When the Emperor for him would send. 

And the stain from his name be removed. 
He would then, if his bride she would be, 

Take her home to be mistress of all ; 
Where vassals on bended knee 

Would attend to her beck and her call. 
The maiden was tickled, indeed, 

And she needed no urging to go ; 
One dark, stormy night, she agree'd 

To elope with her whiskerando. 
Next morning for Miss Fleet they sought, 

But, alas ! she could nowhere be found ; 
The lovers were not to be caught. 

Tho' the country was searched for miles round. 
The squire's two best horses were gone, 

They had carried the lovers away; 
He cursed, and he stormed, and took on, 

'Till the very old scratch was to pay. 
A week had gone by, it is said, 

When she rushed to her father's one night, 
Declared that a tinker she'd wed, 

And was dying of shame and of spite. 
She said, when about to retire, 



30 SCANDEL. 

The evening the cheat was exposed, 
His whiskers broke off of the wire, 

And a poor village tinker disclosed. 
"What a scene must have then been at hand! 

Poor creature ! I pity her so ! 
Her despair I can well understand, 

When she found that her Count was no go. 
She immediately took to her bed, 

And not one of her friends will she see ; 
While the squire, for cracking his head, 

Had the tinker to pay a large fee. 

Oh ! would you believe it, Miss Murray, 

Old Scroggins is going to wed ; 
And really, is in a great hurry 

To take the old fool, it is said. 
The cause is quite plain to discover ; 

'Tis known he's as rich as a Jew ; 
But before I would take such a lover, 

I'd go without stocking or shoe. 
But she, only thinks of the figure 

She'll cut with his wealth, and the dash ; 
I believe she would wed with a nigger, 

If he had but the requisite cash. 

Miss Bunkum just told me this morning, 
That old Sammy Skinflint is dead ; 

And his nieces have all gone in mourning ; 
He has left a large fortune, 'tis said. 



SCANDEL. 31 

They will now hold their heads still higher ; 

They always were stiff, goodness knows ; 
And scarcely would nod to Sophia, 

As they flirted along with their beaux. 
But why they should take up such airs, 

I cannot divine, for my part ; 
Their father, his second-hand wares 

Once peddled around in a cart. 

'Tis said that the gay widow Dill, 

In debt runs wherever she goes; 
Without ever footing a bill ; — 

That accounts for her elegant clothes ; — 
Last Monday she ordered a hat 

From the milliner's here, Mrs. Brown; 
When they had in the store quite a spat, 

She refusing to pay the cash down. 
The jeweler she owes an amount, 

That is awful, his apprentice declares, 
It would take you a day, just to count 

The rings and the trinkets she wears. 
For dry goods she's deeply in debt, 

The grocer she owes a large bill, 
Which I'm certain he never will get, 

She could pay, but she has'nt the will; 
Yet to see her on Sunday at church, 

You'd think her uncommon devout; 
All attention to good Doctor Murch, 

Responding the service throughout, 



32 SCANDEL. 

There is Old Mrs. Saintly they say, 

Is so good she has not a sin ; 
It may be — but I met her one day, 

When she smelt rather strangely of gin ; 
I don't say the old lady drinks, 

She may have a gin poultice applied, 
But you know one can't help what one thinks, 

Could it get to her breath from outside ? 

Young Quickly of late is unsteady, 

Jones told me he saw him dead drunk; 
That half of his fortune already, 

By drinking and gaming he 's sunk. 
'Tis plain to me what is the reason, 

Miss Julap has cut him for Bill; 
She encouraged him for a whole season, 

Oh indeed ! she has treated him ill. 

Oh dear me ! now what do you think ? 

Such terrible slaughter I've done ; 
Sam Lovewell has taken to drink, 

Because I his company shun. 
I'm sorry the poor young man, 

Should rave and go on at this rate; 
But marry him, that I ne'er can, 

When I wed, it must be an estate. 
He's handsome enough to be sure, 

But that you know is not the thing; 
As long as the fellow's so poor, 



SCANDEL. 33 

He scarce could afford me a ring. 
Bill Puffup is more to my mind, 

For he has the requisite tin; 
Tho' treated by nature unkind, 

For she made him as ugly as sin. 
Good looks you know never will pay 

For a carriage, a dress, or a ball; 
While with wealth you can always be gay, 

Without fearing a dun in each call. 
I know by his glance and his sigh, 

The dear fellow's heart is my own; 
Miss Ketchem to catch him may try, 

But her snares to the winds will be thrown. 
Well, good-by, I wish you could stay, 

Your calls are most welcome to me. — 

Now she's gone! and I hope, that I may 
The old dowdy again never see. 




Spring. 



WEET spring is now resuming 
Her glad, triumphant reign ; 
The hills, and dales, assuming 
Their robes of green again. 

Its icy fetters rending, 
The brooklet leaps along ; 

Thro' sloping meadows wending, 
It murmurs sweetly on. 

The birds are gaily singing 
Among the budding trees, 

And blossoms, bright, are flinging 
Sweet incense to the breeze. 

Soft April showers attending, 
Their sparkling treasures yield ; 

In glittering drops descending, 
To cheer the thirsty field. 

Hark! melody, beguiling, 
Now breaks upon the ear ; 

All nature, blandly smiling, 
Proclaims that Spring is here. 



IDE to Dyspepsia. 



HOU direst of diseases, 
Brought on by gorging greases, 
Pastry, tarts and cheeses, 

Here's at thee ! 
Parent of blue devils, 
That on the stomach revels, 
And all ambition levels, 

What meanest thou ? 

Thou generator of spleen, 

Of faces lank and lean, 

Of cramps and aches most keen, 

And suicidal thoughts ! 
Say ! Why this dire attack ? 
Why thus our bodies rack 
Until our thoughts are black 

As Hecate's self ? 

To escape thy sovereign will 
Bitters, most foul, we swill, 
With quack concocted pill ; 

Yet all in vain. 
On sawdust we must dine, 
The sumptuous board resign, 
Drink gall instead of wine, 

Or thou'rt back again. 



Indecision. 

iKfe'CMllIKX young in lite, 1 sought a wife, 
li^Mal And glanced the lair ones over; 
A girl to find, to suit my mind, 
Not easy to discover. 

Fair maids I knew, and beauties too, 

Whose glances love invited; 
But still my heart, escaped each dart, 

And Cupid's efforts slighted. 

A pair of eyes, blue as the skies, 
One day would make me falter; 

A darker hue, would shade the blue, 
And my intentions alter. 

A winnning smile, would for a while, 

Haunt me with its beaming; 
Until a face of purer grace, 

Deprived it of its meaning. 

In vain I sought, by wisdom taught, 

To fix my wayward fancy; 
To-day 'twas Nan, to-morrow, Fan, 

And next day 'twould be Nancy. 



IILTED. 



Air. — " Doctor Monroe." 

jMJI DISTRACTION I'm wretched I'm ruined forever, 
|BaJEg| With rage and confusion soon frantic I'll go; 
My first fond delusion thus rudely to sever, — 
My heart is near breaking with excess of woe. 

Who would have dream'd that my Moll would deceive me, 
Such an angel appearing in beauty and truth ; 

That for that squash-headed old major she'd leave me, 
In spite of my killing moustache and my youth. 



How oft has she told me she'd love me forever, 
And vow'd in no other such graces she found; 

With a smile and a glance so bewitching and clever, 
As round her white fingers my moustache she wound. 

If she'd cut me to fly with some fine dashing fellow, 
My loss would have been far more easy to bear; 

To be " done " by a flunkey the hue of chrome yellow ! 
By heavens ! 'tis past all endurance, I swear ! 



f HE f OWL. 



JEllpI KNOW by his reeling and staggering gait, 
fl&lfgj [n his cups he had lately indulged; 
And I thought what a history they could relate, 
Should past scenes in his life be divulged. 

I saw by the blossoms that bloom'd on his nose, 

No freshman he was at the draught; 
The god he had courted for years I suppose, 

And many a puncheon had quaff'd. 

No doubt he could tell you of jovial hours, 
He had passed with companions now gone; 

When the board had oft sparkled with wit's brilliant showers 
And the wine circled round until morn. 

Of the songs that were sung as the brimmers were filled, 

And genius, their magic had moved; 
Till the chorus resounding to heaven was thrilled, 

And the strength of the potions thus proved. 

Perhaps he could tell you of one who was dear 

In the innocent days of his youth, 
Whom he loved with a passion so warm and sincere, 

That he felt against temptation, proof. 



THE BOWL. 39 

How her smile could dispel every care from his soul, 

And fill it with visions of light; 
How she warned him (with tears) to beware of the bowl, 

When flushed with its vapors one night. 

How he promised, to break it, and promised again, 

And vow'd to be tempted no more, 
Till one night when possession wine had of his brain, 

He felled the poor girl to the floor. 

How she never survived the effects of the blow, 

But slowly went down to the grave ; 
"While he in his agony left here below, 

Drinks hard his soul's torments to waive. 




doctor /Dose. 



iKTBSilPON a time to New York came 

\&M&\ An M. D. , Ephram Dose by name, 

He was a graduate of college, 

And a diploma had for knowledge. 

He, in dissection was well posted, 

For oft he'd carved a goose when roasted; 

At analyzing he was great, 

He practiced every time he ate ; 

Was at phlebotomy as good, 

And reckoning fees well understood. 

He had an office and a store, 

With ' ' Doctor Dose " above the door ; 

The store with draws and jars abounded, 

Whose labels ever had confounded 

His customers, and patients who 

The more they spell'd the less they knew. 

Wliite powered sugar who the deuce would know. 

When in a jar marked " Sacrum Alba Pulvo;" 

Croton water, "Aqua Pura," here 

Must precious be or else why sold so dear V 

The ointment jars were labeled all Unguentum. 

Prescriptions paid a very big percentum; 

The doctor on his rounds would write, 



DOCTOR DOSE. 41 

Some score, ere he returned at night, 

Directing every one to go 

To No. 6, for then he'd know 

That every article was pure, 

And of its virtues feel secure; 

If others were employed to make them, 

It would be quite unsafe to take them; 

For many in spurious drugs there dealt, 

And no compunction for it felt, 

Who regular to their church would go, 

And of religion make a show; 

Where on their knees, as if in prayer, 

They'd weigh the dross the gold would bear; 

If from such drugs a relapse came, 

They must not charge with him the blame ; 

Unless they did as he directed, 

Improvement could not be expected. 

Two clerks were busy all day long, 

Dispensing physic to the throng, 

Who hurried in for draught and pill, 

And remedy for every ill 

That flesh and blood was ever heir to, 

Their miracles they both would swear to. 

A cure invented by the doctor, 

Who is a skillful drug concoctor, 

Has cast all others in the shade, 

That ever yet by quack was made ; 

The advertisements of it state, 

Its powers of healing are so great, 

The keenest tortures to assuage, 



42 DOCTOR DOSE. 

That 'tis the wonder of the age. 

Numerous certificates that go 

To prove its wonderous cures they show. 

A man with skineatus had lain, 

For twenty years in dreadful pain; 

They fastened first upon his toe, 

And eat their way up sure and slow, 

Till not a particle of hide 

Was left upon him, either side; 

Indeed, he was completely raw, 

From his toe-nails up to his jaw. 

The color of fresh beef was he, 

A most horrific sight to see. 

One day a friend when by his side, 

Asked him had he ever tried 

Dose's ' ' Devil Killing Bitters, 

Or Health Insuring Stomach Fitters " ? 

Ship loads of stuff got up for sale, 

He said he'd swilled without avail; 

He had received no benefit, 

And swore he'd take no more of it. 

His friend who knew the Bitter's powers 

[Of fits they'd cured him in two hours;] 

Was so determined he should try them, 

He went himself at once to buy them ; 

And when the patient still objected, 

He very soon a cure effected, 

By holding him tight by the nose 



DOCTOR DOSE. 43 

And dropping Bitters on his toes. 
Five minutes passed;— when cries were heard; 
And something in the bed clothes stir'd; 
They waited but a moment more, 
When down it tumbled on the floor. 
And with an oath, flew out the door; 
The skineatus had got their Bitters, 
A dose of the true Stomach Fitters; 
And thus forever were displaced, 
While a fair skin their victim graced. 
I said his clerks with calls were busy- 
Indeed, their heads with work went dizzy. 
The powders, pills and potions made, 
Down people's throats to be convey'd, 
That in a single day were sold, 
'Twas truly shocking to behold. 
'Twould gripe a man in perfect health, 
To see them taken from the shelf; 
Did you a dose of physic seek, 

One smell would last you for a week. 

In comes a fellow with the chills, 
To get some anti-shaking pills; 

One wants a salve to raise a blister, 
***** 
***** 
***** 

An Irish woman staggers in, 

In smell and make, a keg of gin ; 

And wants to know what she must take 

To cure a murthurin stomick ache. 



44 DOCTOR DOSE. 

Be japers, whiskey she had tried, 
And gin a drop or two beside, 
Instead at all of asin pain, 
They'd played the divil with her brain; 
She prayed the Vargin to deliver 
Her bowels this time and she'd niver 
Ask that same favor — bless the day ! 
'Till Paddy came across the sae. 

In comes a fellow rather tight, 

Who says he is not feeling right; 

This deuced hot unhealthy weather, 

Would soon upset him altogether. 

He'd heard the cholera was here, 

And as his head was feeling queer; 

He thought his symptoms he would state 

Before it got to be too late. 

Since from old Putnam he came down, 

To view the sights about this town, 

He in his health had felt a change, 

And lately visions had most strange; 

Sometimes his thoughts would soar so high 

They'd raise him really to the sky, 

Where forms most beautiful to see 

Were flitting round divinity; 

Just as some nymph with killing glance, 

Had sought him for the circling dance, 

He down again to earth would fall, 

And in a stinking gutter sprawl, 



DOCTOR DOSE. 45 

Or else a post be holding to, 

While from his mouth his supper flew — 

'Twas now that he did first discover, 

The world was turning over and over; 

He'd read about it in his youth, 

But thought it overturning truth. 

Of late his sight was so improving, 

That he would swear he'd seen it moving, 

The houses, people, everything, 

Were really topsy turvying, 

With force centrifugal so great, 

As gravitation to abate; 

That evening, had a curbstone flew 

And bang'd his eyes up black and blue, 

When to use a saying of Shakspere's, 

He saw the " stars start from their spheres;" 

Some boozy loafers reeling by 

Allow'd he'd fell and hurt his eye,— 

And when he dared the crowd to fight 

The cowards hinted he was tight. 

Just as the sidewalk he had cleared 

An M. P. came and interfered, 

He told the crowd to travel on; 

And when they all away had gone 

He coolly nabbed him by the collar, 

And asked him to shell out a dollar. 

If not he'd take him to the lock-up, 

And thus his fun for some time block up. 

To Blackwell's Island they would send him,— 

Six months there would most likely mend him. 



46 DOCTOR DOSE. 

No doubt it would improve his health 
Thus working for the common-wealth. 
Well, rather than get in a muss 
He paid up, without further fuss, 
But vow'd if he should ev^er catch him 
In Putnam County, they'd dispatch him, 
Tar'd and feather'd from head to tail 
Up salt creek, on a locust rail. 
It was an everlasting pity 
Such rogues were guardians of the city. 
He'd often heard the corporation 
"Were a disgrace to the whole nation. 
That from the lowest tool to chief 
They'd take a bribe from any thief; 
Their minions it must be expected 
Were skum of skum when so directed. 
The M. P. then blow'd out and swore 
He'd make him pay a dollar more; 
This time he thought he'd not be done 
So trusted to his heels and run, 
He thought it risky in the street 
To go, for he again might meet 
The sneaking rogue and blasted liar, 
Who'd swear he'd set the town on fire; 
And would to his last sixpence fleece him 
Ere he consented to release him. 
Before he left he'd like a grain 
Of something to clear up his brain ; 
For should his folks behold him now 
That he'd been on a lark they'd vow. 



DOCTOR DOSE. 47 

Perhaps he wa'nt exactly right 

For hang it, all New York was tight. 

While thus his clerks with calls were flurried 

The doctor to his patients hurried; 

He felt their pulses and looked grave, 

Then hem'd and a prescription gave. 

Among his patients was a she 

It would have done you good to see; 

Good did I say, it might be harm 

Did you appreciate each charm ; 

For she indeed was very charming, 

Tho' that was not at all alarming; 

The trouble was that those who knew her 

Somehow were making love unto her, 

Which they should not have done you know, 

For she'd been wed a year or so; 

The doctor's heart she did assail, 

And thereby hangs the coming tale. 

One day he to her breast applied 

A lotion, and a bosom spied; 



He took her hand the pulse to feel, — 
That touch would melt a heart of steel; 
It lost for him his self command, 
And fast he grasped the dimpled hand. 
He stooped her pouting lips to kiss, 
And clasp her yielding form with bliss. 
When suddenly a crash he hears, 



48 DOCTOR DOSE. 

And in the shattered door appears 
The lady's husband, standing quiet, 
Prepared to dose him with lead diet. 
" Doctor, (the husband hoarsely spoke,, 
And smiled as if he liked the joke), 
Allow me to prescribe a pill, 
An antidote for every ill; 
Which from its duty never swerves 
To still the pulses and the nerves; 
A lancet here is never needed, 
When the direction is well heeded; 
To a stomach sympathetic, 
It sometimes acts as an emetic ; 
A patient may survive your stuff — 
One dose of this will be enough 
With all your sins, a heavy sum, 
To send you into kingdom come; 
I give you that you may prepare, 
Five minutes for much needed prayer; 
When these five minutes have gone by,- 
(He spoke it slowly) — you must die." 
The dose the doctor don't admire, 
He wasn't good at standing fire, 
With fear and trembling he did quake, 
But felt an effort he must make. 
He thought of diving in the bed 
And heaping clothes upon his head; 
But then he knew full well, forsooth,. 
Blankets are not bullet-proof. 
He glances at a window o] en, 



DOCTOR DOSE. 49 

Then thought of bones that might be broken. 

The time had dwindled to a wink, — 

Indeed, there was no time to think; 

Quick were the tables all surrounded, 

At hotel when the gong was sounded; 

And mighty quick did disappear, 

Comeatables, I tell you here; 

Quick — quick, the first course you must swallow, 

If you would have the second follow; 

Quick is the lightning's vivid flash, 

And quick the following thunder crash; 

Quick is the swallow on the wing, 

But quicker did the doctor spring, 

As on the wings of fear he flew, 

And leap'd that open window thro' ; 

With one tremendous yell and bound, 

He sprawling lay upon the ground ; 

With reeling head and aching bones, 

And curses mingled with his groans, 

He staggered from the hateful spot; 

Uncertain as to being shot. 

A loud report there was he knew, 

Just as he clear'd the casement thro', — 

He in his rear a tingling felt, 

And also the burnt powder smelt. 

But when more coolness he had gained, 

He found tho' he was badly sprained, 

He had escaped unharm'd the ball, 

And only suffered from the fall. 



50 



DOCTOR DOSE. 



He limped away a sorry sight, 
A begrimed, bloody looking wight;- 
And as for his blood-thirsty foe 
He'll surely to a warm place go, 
And have a smell of brimstone fire, 
Should Doctor Dose have his desire. 




Impatience, 



OU promise rue, Eliza dear, 
When summer days have fled, 
And Autumn, once again, is here, 
That we shall then be wed. 

Oh ! distant seems the time to me, 

Tho' summer now is nigh; 
And hours, dear one, when passed with thee, 

Seem all too soon to fly. 

'Tis when no longer by thy side, 

I feel their sad delay ; 
No longer then they swiftly glide, 

But slowly creep away. 

'Tis then — 'tis then, that I repine, 

The lingering hours deplore; 
And wish to heaven, that thou wert mine, 

And all sad partings o'er ! 



Persuasion. 



EAREST come with me away. 
To the groves and meadows gay; 
There I'll cull thee roses sweet, 
And lay them blushing at thy feet; 
There I'll gather blossoms fair, 
And twine them in thy golden hair; 
Seated 'neath some spreading tree, 
We'll list to nature's minstrelsy; 
To the warbler's evening song, 
Swelling on the breeze along; 
Or we'll wander by the lake, 
And watch the sparkling ripples break ; 
As the moon, her silvery light, 
Scatters o'er the waters bright; 
Whilst the mildly beaming skies, 
Guard us with ten thousand eyes; 
Come then dearest, come away 
To the groves and meadows gay. 




f 



^HE DECLARATION. 



A.IR maids I had met, ere I saw you, niy love, 
Who were f orm'd, every heart to beguile ; 
With ringlets of gold, and eyes of the dove, 
Coral lips, pearly teeth and sweet smile. 

I had courted their glances and smiles by the hour, 

Yet escaped all unharm'd, every art; 
While my fancy was pleased and acknowledged their power, 

No impression they made on my heart. 

It escaped every snare, and went bounding as light 

As the waves, on a midsummer sea ; 
And thro' I might sigh when we parted at night. 

They were naught on the morrow, to me. 



Devotion. 



fea'g&JJHO' but absent for a day, 
llggJSll Slowly wear the hours away, 
And with sighs I oft betray 
Impatience for their sad delay. 
But when with thee, then the hours 
Seem possess'd of magic powers; 
Brighter than the fairest flowers, 
Fleeting as the summer showers. 

Seasons will forget to roll 

Icy chains to bind the pole, 

Ere Eliza you, my soul 

Shall cease to sway with love's control. 

Let us not so long delay, 

Name, dear girl, the wedding day; 

Youth will not forever stay, 

Summer flies — time speeds awaj^. 




Lemonade. 



OR SWEET AKD SOTJR. 

]|'^a|OVE is a wayward child 
flygfl Born of the passions wild, 
He bringeth smart, to every heart 
That is by him beguiled. 

But bless the vagrant boy, 
He also bringeth joy 
To lovers true, like I and you, 
Who love without alloy. 

Thy arms around me twine, — 
Now bring thy lips to mine; — 
And drinking bliss in every kiss 
We'll taste his joys divine. 




iKEASSURANCE. 



v&A\ 



OUBT not dear girl this heart is thine, 
And thine will ever be; 
Nor will it but with life resign 
The bliss of loving- thee! 



Full many a month has past away 
Since first it felt thy power; 

And yet I feel my love, to-day 
Is but a budding: flower. 



A passion flower, whose rays impart 
Bright visions to my dreams, 

Whose tendrils twine around my heart, 
And warm its inmost streams. 




The Germans' Iomplaint. 



Written on the election of Mayor "Wood in 1853. 



HAT for, got for tarn, mean these temperance folks 
To shut up mine place on one Sunday; 
Do they think that we beobles will stand their tam jokes, 
And not do ter puisness to Monday ? 

What for, got for tam, did ter licence I pay 
When mine house is shut up for one trifle; 

Do they tink I shall throw mine goot monish away, 
When mine puisness is gone to the tivel? 

What for do they say there bes liberty here, 
When one mans cannot drink when he wishes? 

In Sharmany we drinks every day in the year, 
Andswims in ter beer like ter fishes. 

What for, for that tam, wooden Mayor did I vote 
And get drunk in mine head when he pete ? 

I would more have cut one long hole in mine throat, 
If I thought he was one such tam cheat. 



58 THE GERMANS' COMPLAINT. 

I wish that the Mayor would come back as is went, 

In place of this temperance feller; 
On Sunday I shall sell all ter beer for ter rent, 

What now will go sour in the cellar. 

Last Sunday von Fry and mine self and ten more, 

Was drinking and smoking ter beer; 
When ter votch house come banging up to mine shut door, 

And we like to gone dead with ter fear. 

Then they corned in and say, what for you do dis, 

You shall all go with me to ter jail, 
Then von Fry they will kick and mine f row they shall kiss. 

And broke off my Sunday coat tail. 

Tben they took me up too with the other mens there, 

And lock me all up to next day; 
When they brought me pefore one pig man in ter chair, 

Which make me for ten dollar pay. 




.»-> 



Hatching a ^Salmon. 



HEN morning first lights up the sky 
And throws night's dusky curtain by, 
Ere yet the sun the hills has tipped, 
The angler who is now equiped 
With rod, that's flexible and long, 
A reel of line both fine and strong, 
A store of various killing flies 
And creel to hold the expected prize, 
Hastes to the stream beneath whose tide 
In sheltered haunts, the salmon hide ; 
There, screened behind some bush, secure 
From sight, he casts the fatal lure; 
Nor long impatient doth he wait 
Maneuvering the tempting bait, 
For starting from the hidden deep 
A fish has seized it with a leap. 
Now comes the glorious " tug of war," 
A fish of twenty pounds or more ; 
The noble prize if brought to land 
Must be played with a master's hand, 
See, down the ruffled stream he flies 
To shoals where rocks and weeds arise ; 
Now turn him skillfully, or the cost 
Is that both fish and line are lost; 
For all his efforts will combine 



60 CATCHING A SALMON. 

On the sharp ledge to cut the line, 
Or wind it round the tangling weed, 
When all were labour lost indeed. 
But see, he's turned, and now a main 
He courses up with the tide again, 
Leaps from the stream and with his tail 
Strikes the slacked line without avail. 
Tries all in vain his cunning arts, 
Then stubborn for the bottom starts, 
And motionless there surly lies 
Nor for the urging line will rise; 
Till by a pebble neatly cast 
Above the spot, he moves at last. 
Again to snap the line he tries, 
He leaps, he darts, he madly plies, 
But capture surely doth await — 
No art can save him from the fate; 
For see, he now begins to tire, 
And fast is loosing all his fire. 
Now as upon the stream he lies 
His blood the crystal current dyes. 
He now is landed with the wish, 
And faith, it is a noble fish! 




$L f ERVANT ©AID'S SdVENTURE. 



HERE once was a maid, who fate had ordained, 
Should work out as help if a living she gain'd; 
Or in other words, should live out as a servant, 
Of her mistress's wish to be ever observant; 
To take care of children and tend to their wishes, 
To wait on the table, and wash up the dishes; 
To rub, and to scrub, and to bring in the water, 
To make up the beds, and to run as a porter. 
Soon tiring of places where work so beset her, 
She often would change them, her fortune to better ; 
And now, when we make her acquaintance, we find her 
Just leaving one place, for another, behind her. 
Her mistress is sorry to part with her quite, 
But refused not a recommendation, to write; 
For said Betty, ' ' the place where I'm going to live, 
I'll not get, till a character written I give; 
And sure they would think I had left in disgrace 
For putting the silver spoons in a tight place ; 
They'd believe it, I have not the sign of a doubt, 
That I'd shoved every spoon in the house up the spout." 
Well, her mistress has given her a good recommend, 
She departs, and says soon for her clothes she will send; 
She had not gone far when a river she sees, 



62 A SERVANT MAID'S ADVENTURE. 

That near by, was running, quite hid by the trees; 

For a bridge, looks around, but there is none in sight ; 

As for wading, that out of the question is, quite ; 

Tho' the water was shallow, yet she was afraid 

Of wetting her petticoats, were she to wade; 

As for holding them up, that never would do, 

For then her bare legs would be brought into view, 

And an impudent fellow with eyes staring wide, 

Was looking intent from the opposite side; 

That he should behave so, was truly most vexing, 

Indeed, her condition was very perplexing. 

Just as she was giving it up in despair, 

A friend there appear'd to dispel every care; 

A jolly old farmer came down on his horse, 

And asked, "was she wishing the river to cross ?" 

She said that she was, and would take it most kind, 

If he would allow her to get up behind; 

He consented, and lifting her up, nothing loth, 

Said the horse was well able to carry them both; 

They got on very well till they came to the middle, 

When the nag made a halt, for he wanted to water. 

Now the maid was confused by her strange situation, 

Down dropped from her bosom, the recommendation; 

Which she ne'er again was to get, it was fated, 

For the flood had the river so much agitated; 

It was buried at once, below the foul'd stream, 

And ne'er by its owner again was it seen ; 

Who for her sad loss was so deeply distress'd, 

She was wringing her hands, and was beating her breast; 

Till the farmer, who felt for her loss as a brother, 



A SERVANT MAID'S ADVENTURE. 63 

Told her "never to mind it, he'd make her another; 

To cease from her grief, nor give way to distraction, 

An excuse he would write that would give satisfaction." 

He took from his pocket a pencil and wrote; 

" This is to certify that Betty Shote, 

While crossing the river with me this day, 

A very good character lost on the way ; 

From no fault of her's the misfortune came, 

If any one was, the horse was to blame; 

If further particulars any would know, 

They've only to call upon Farmer Barlow. 

Moral. — There is many a maid who will cry for the loss, 
Of a character smutted by man, or by horse; 
And find every art, it again to restore, 
Will make it look dingyer than ever before. 




A Picture. 



EAR girl a sheltered nook we'll seek, 
Deep in some flowery dell; 
And making there our snug retreat, 
In sweet seclusion dwell. 

Our cot just hy the river-side 
'Neath spreading elms shall stand, 

A garden and an orchard wide 
We'll have at our command. 

Hard hy our door, a chrystal stream 
With blooming banks will flow, 

Where sporting fry like silver gleam 
O'er sparkling sands below. 

By distant hills the charming view 

Will bounded be at last; 
Where lingering clouds of varying hue, 

Their darksome shadows cast. 



A PICTURE. 65 

Here calm our lives will glide away, 

With ne'er a wish to roam ; 
Affection wreathing day by day 

Fresh ties around our home. 

Nor will our lives be idly spent, 

For like the bee we'll strive — 
Each on our pleasing duties bent — 

With sweets to stock the hive. 

So when life's fleeting spring is o'er, 

Its youthful vigor past, 
Provided with an ample store, 

Old age we'll greet at last. 

Proud chanticleer at early dawn 

Shall break our sweet repose, 
Ere yet the sunbeam gilds the lawn, 

Or dew drop leaves the rose. 

And forth we'll hie to breathe the air 

Now fragrant with perfume ; 
By zephyrs borne from meadows where 

Wild flowers in myriads bloom. 

While birds their melodies will sing 

Among the leafy boughs, 
The sky-lark soaring on the wing 

His lingering mate arouse. 



66 A PICTURE. 

As cheerily from distant hill 
Resounds the hunts-man's horn, 

And laughing music of the rill, 
Upon the breeze is borne. 

And now as joyously we greet 

The duties of the day, 
Hours as moments seem to fleet — 

In sunshine dance away. 

Soon as the sun's meridian beams 

Descend o'er hill and glade, 
When kine resort to cooling streams, 

And court the grateful shade, — 

Reposing in our garden bowers, 
We'll pass the noontide heat; 

While murmurs from the drooping flowers 
Will lull our slumbers sweet. 

We'll wander tho' the sheltering grove 

Where all around invites 
The youthful heart to thoughts of love, 

And all its pure delights. 

'Till startled by the owlet's cry, 

Who with departing day 
Wings his dark flight from woods hard by, 

To seek his trembling prey. 



A PICTURE. 67 

We'll listen to the whip-poor-will 

Pour forth his plaintive strain ; 
As evening closes o'er the hill, 

And silence else doth reign. 

Or watch the light and graceful sail 

In shadowy distance fade; 
As onward by the favoring gale 

To destined ports conveyed. 

Or our light bark put off from shore 

Just as the day declines; 
While to thy mellow voice, the oar 

In cadence softly chimes. 

Or hoisting sail we'll bear away 

Across the moonlit tide, 
Dashing aloft the glittering spray 

As swiftly on we glide. 

But when delaying night has come 

In sombre mantle drest, 
Returning to our peaceful home 

We'll calmly sink to rest. 

While joy and love shall light thine eye — 

Health bloom upon thy cheek — 
Dull care our cottage ever fly, 

Less favored haunts to seek. 



f he -[Secret. 



HEY ask me why alone I seek 
jj To pass the livelong day, 
And why the bloom upon my cheek 

Is fading fast away? 
They tell me that my eyes once bright 

Have lost their former glow; 
They beam now with a soften'd light, 
And lurking sadness show. 



They little deem that Cupid's dart 

Has pierced my tortured breast, 
And deep lies buried in my heart 

Forever there to rest, 
That hid beneath thy brilliant eye 

His bow the urchin drew; 
And heedless of my plaintive sigh, 

The fatal shaft he threw. 




Summer is Ioming. 

l^j'^jll E balmy breeze, 
IeOHI The whispering trees, 
The azure skies so clear; 
The springing flowers, 
The genial showers, 
Proclaim that summer's near. 

The warbler's strain, 

Is heard again, 

Welcoming the day; 

While the purling streams, 

Reflect the beams, 

That with their ripples play. 

The wild bee roves, 
O'er the flower he loves, 
And rifles all her store ; 
Then away he flies, 
While the blossom dies, — 
For the bee returns no more. 



70 SUMMER IS COMING. 

The dew-drop glows, 

On the opening rose, 

Like a tear in the loved one's eye; 

Till the sun's warm ray, 

Lures it away, 

And it rises again to the sky. 

As daylight fades, 

In evening shades, 

And night, her reign resumes; 

With scented breath, 

Just waked from death, 

The evening primrose blooms. 

The moon-beams break, 
O'er the shimmering lake, 
Reflecting liquid light; 
The heavens gleam, 
Beneath the stream, 
In constellations bris;ht. 




|eke and Sarah. 



A DOWN EAST PASTORAL. 

EKE. O, Sally you have stole my heart, 
You've stuck a skewer thro' it; 
Or what they call a Cupid's dart, 
Slam bang, before I knew it. 



Sarah. Git eout you Zeke, you make me blush, 
You look so 'tarnal spooney; 
You're talking gist as soft as mush, 
You must be gittin looney. 

Zeke. I feel so jolly when I'm here, 
Jist like I was in clover; 
The bumble-bees a bumbling round, 
With honey daub'd all over. 

Sarah. Go tell that 'ere to black Maria, 
She's in the slop-room yonder, 
A bilin doughnuts by the fire, 
And singing psalms, like thunder. 



72 ZEKE AND SARAH. 

Zeke. Now I've got to go away, 
I feel so dratted slinkey; 
I'd give a load of sass to stay, 
And hug your little pinkey. 

Sarau. Ezekel ! you do that agen, 
Jehoshafat and taller ! 
I don't know what's got in you men, 
You are so dratted shaller. 

Zeke. Brown sugar's stunnin sweet, 

But you're a darn sight sweeter ; 
You're jist the most completest gal, 
That ever peel'd a tater. 

Sarah. Now you git eout, you booby you, 
You're worse than yaller janders; 
Take your chops away, now do, 
I'd rather kiss a gander's. 

Zeke. Now Sally! when we're here alone, 
Why should'nt we be jolly ? 
Gravey bolts and lobster sass ! 
I'll have a buss, by golly ! 

Sarah. Stop that, you Zeke, go mend your ways, 
Old Scratch ha'nt got your ekel; 
Jerusalem ! there goes my stays, 
O, ma ! come see to Zekel. 



ine Versus Poison. 

J -*Ji3 



HERE'S magic in the glass, 
The gloomy brow 'twill brighten; 
Make earth for heaven pass, 

Its joys to transports highten. 
Then drain the sparkling bowl, 
With rosy wine 'tis gleaming; 
Drink — drink to her, whose soul. 
With thoughts of thee is teeming. 

Let fanatics declare, 

There's poison in the potion; 
We'll speedy prove that they're 

Mistaken in the notion. 
Poison beauty kills, 

The flush of health soon deadens, 
Wine, new life instils, 

The pallid cheek it reddens. 

Poison chills the breast 

That once with love was beating; 
Wine gives a double zest 

To every thought of meeting. 



74 WINE VERSUS POISON. 

Poison robs the eyes 
Of all their soul-lit meaning; 

Wine, like stars to skies, 
Adds brilliance to their beaming. 



Poison's deadly blight, 

Withers all life's powers; 
Wine, with ruby light, 

Strews the way with flowers. 
Wit's effulgent beam, 

Poison quickly blightens; 
Wine, the electric stream, 

To lightning flashes brightens. 



Poison fills the grave 

With beauty fresh and blooming; 
Wine, age's blood will lave, 

Till youth it seems resuming. 
Poison racks with pain, 

Like thrusts from gleaming lances j 
Wine fills the sage's brain, 

With wild ecstatic trances. 



Poison fills the mind 

With visions dark and gory; 
In wine, the bard will find 

His golden wreaths of glory. 



MY PIPE. 75 



Then fill the sparkling glass, 
The wise will ever choose it; 

And he is but an ass, 

Who can with zest refuse it. 



Sy f ipe. 

HEN my pipe I've lit 
By the chimney blaze, 
Visions sprightly flit 

With the rising haze; 
As the graceful wreaths, 

Vanish in the air, 
Thus the mind it leaves 

Oblivious of care. 
In the smoke I see 

Ghosts of times, long past; 
Things that used to be 

Rising thick and fast. 
Forms of otber days, 

Features once I knew, 
Pass before my gaze, 

Vividly and true. 



76 MY riPE. 



The romping girls and boys, 

Their laughter light and gay ; 
Again I share their joys, 

And mingle in their play. 
Old chums around me sit, 

Old flames again appear, 
Their forms before me flit, 

Their voices, too, I hear. 
Thus, old pipe, in thee 

Magic powers I find ; 
Bidding sorrows flee, 

Leaving peace behind : 
A spirit subtle, dwells 

In thy glowing bowl, 
Beatific spells 

Shedding o'er the soul. 




f 



mEE PARTING MASS. 

© -yob tib 



E'LL drink — we'll drink together 
A glass, and then away ! 
Your health, before we sever — 
Here's luck, go where you may ! 



Another, ere our parting — 
That moment still delay ; 

Another, yet, ere starting — 
Here's luck, go where you may. 

And yet another brimmer, 

A little longer stay ; 
See how our glasses glimmer — 

Here's luck, go where you may. 

In vain, alas ! the endeavor, 
Our wine seems weak to-day ; 

"We part, and O, forever ! 
Here's luck, go where you may ! 



G-rJ 



n Impromptu. 



I TOP ! organ grinder, 
Grind me a lay : 
Something I pray thee, 
Sprightly and gay. 



Go it, thou monkey, 
Pocket the cash ; 

Stop that, you flunkey- 
Lord ! what a crash ! 



Why did you do it ? 

You loafers, pray tell ; 
Faith you shall rue it, 

"Tarn you to 'ell !" 




^ANTICIPATION. 



jM^jl! V childhood's hours 
IbLMII As summer flowers, 
Have fleeted now away ; 
Tliose dreamy years 
Of smiles and tears, 
That seem of yesterday. 

Yet do not sigh, 

For joys gone hy, 

While there are sweeter near 

The joys of love, 

Sent from above — 

A glimpse of heaven here ! 

Tho' Time has sped, 

He's only shed 

His brightest gifts o'er thee ; 

Thy form and face, 

And every grace 

Brought to maturity. 



80 PASSION. 

As daily grows 

The opening rose, 

More beautiful and bright, 

'Till bursting wide, 

In all its pride, 

Entrancing is the sight. 



Passion. 

fe3'S§| '" >' the rains in torrents fall, 
liSzJUl And the lightning rends the skies, 
Still I hasten to thy call, 
To bask beneath thy dreamy eyes. 

What care I for storm or blast, 

When to meet my love I fly ? 
Tho' fierce the tempest, soon 'tis past — 

While love like mine can never die ! 



Let thy arms encompass me, 
And bid me welcome with a kiss ; 

And Oh ! may all our meetings be 
As warm — as kind — as sweet as this. 



THE COMPARISON. 81 



J he Comparison. 

IjnSM LIZA dear, I tell you true, 
JiLllal This opening rose resembles you, 
For in your cheek we see its bloom ; 
Your breath outvies it in perfume ; 
Cupid makes his bed of roses, 
He in your dimples too reposes. 



§0VE. 



towwdXE day 1 met ;i rosy boy, 

i ygg| Blooming as a smile of joy; 

O'er his back a bow was flung, 

By his side a quiver hung, 

Filled with arrows, pointed keen, 

Such a sight I ne'er had seen. 

I paused to ask him, whence he came, 

Who he was, and what his name ; 

When quick as thought, his bow he drew, 

And with an arrow pierced me through. 

Since then I've known the God full well; 

Lived in his heaven and felt his hell. 



Jhe Tnvitation. 



OME leave the city's noise and strife, 
And live retired a rural life; 
Who would not city pleasures yield, 
For dewy mead and blooming field; 
The noisy streets and dazzling show, 
For song of birds and streamlet's flow ? 
To wander thro' the whispering grove, 
Where nodding boughs entwine above; 
At early dawn, at close of day, 
To hear the sparrows sprightly lay; 
To rove along the crystal stream, 
Whose banks with blooming wild flowers teem, 
With rod and artificial fly, 
To lure the unsuspecting fry, 
That struggling on the treacherous hook, 
Are drawn triumphant from the brook; 
At noon, alone in some deep glade, 
To sit and ponder in the shade; 
To bring to mind the sorrows past, 
And brimming joys, too bright to last; 



THE INVITATION. 83 

Till memory calls for a tear, 

For those now gone, who once were dear; 

These musings sometimes will impart, 

A gush of feeling to the heart, 

A something stealing o'er the mind, 

So sad, so sweet, so undefind, 

As with their faded hopes and fears, 

"We bring to mind those by-gone years, 

'Tis now our soften'd souls incline, 

To hope for joys that are divine; 

O, give me then a rural home, 

And naught shall tempt me more to roam. 




i 



OST exquisite creature, 
In form and in feature, 
In beauty and grace so excelling; 
There is not a place 
In that angelic face, 
That Cupid has not made his dwelling. 

He flew to your cheek, 
The dimples to seek, 

And rest on its down until morning; 
No more he will roam, 
For he's made it his home, 

His rose-leaves for evermore scorning. 

He next sought your lip, 
The nectar to sip, 

And revel awhile in its treasure ; 
'Till caught by a smile, 
That a Saint would beguile, 

He lies there now, drunken with pleasure. 

In the glance of your eye, 
I feel the boy's nigh, 

And Ah ! you well know without pleading, 
I shall die if your charms 
You yield not to these arms, 

My heart is so wounded and bleeding. 



TO BlHS. ft. I I. 



S"^ EAR madam, the bounties you scatter around, 
j3A\ With a hand that seemingly never will tire, 
Will secure you a home where the bless'd will be found, 
For who to that goal if not you, may aspire ? 

What tho' foul ingratitude's venomous sting 
Would rob you of honors you duly have won ; 

There are thousands of hearts your praises that sing, 
That know not one-half the good deeds you have done. 

The wretched for charity never can plead 
And advice and relief not receive at your door, 

A tale of distress will make your heart bleed, 

'Till the burden is lightened, and peace you restore. 

To-day 'tis the wretchedly poor you receive, 
Who with smiles and rejoicings are sent on their way, 

On the morrow an unfortunate friend you relieve, 
Whose soul again gladdens with hope's cheering ray. 

If this world was but filled with such hearts as your own, 
All sorrow and sadness would change into bliss ; 

And nothing but sunshine and joy would be known — 
Indeed, we could wish for no heaven but this. 



f o Irs. f h. 



H MY dear Mrs. V. , 
Take pity on me, 
Your disconsolate next-door neighbor ; 
What will we all do, 
When we have lost you ? — 
I'll run myself thro' with a sabre. 

Delighting the ear, 

Is the music we hear, 
That comes thro' the walls that divide us; 

Those dainties you send, 

All — all must now end, 
And Old Nick may live there beside us ! 

When summer again 

Is decking the plain, 
Our flowers, oh ! who will then praise them ' 

Sweet Williams and roses, 

And various posies — 
By heavens ! I don't think I'll raise them ! 



NEPTUNE'S DUES. 87 

And Mr. V.'s chickens, 

Whose bountiful pickings, 
As aldermen made them as fat ; 

The delightful old crow, 

Of the rooster, you know — 
'Tis hard to be deprived of all that. 

Well, if you must go, 

We'd have you to know, 
Our best wishes, truly, we give you. 

And, joking aside, 

May joy betide, 
And happiness ever be with you. 



lEPTUNE'S JB UES. 

p the superb steamer, Wyanoke, 
Where many a bright eye gleam'd, 
For New York bound— from Norfolk's port, 
At 10 P. M. we steam'd. 

Our captain (Bowen) was comme Ufa at, 

As the quarter deck he paced ; 
With kindly word and gallant mien, 

So well his ship he graced. 



88 NEPTUXE'S DUES. 

The atmosphere was balmy, 

The skies, they were serene; 
The darkling waters in the night. 

With phosphoresence gleam. 

The sumptuous board — the night we sail, 

The passengers surround ; 
When greetings, smiles, and happy looks, 

And merry jests go round. 

At length to state rooms they retire, 

Soon sinking to repose, 
Without a thought of what they were,— 

Those tin things near the nose. 

The morn arrives — the board again 

With viands, rich, is spread; 
Why is it, now, so few are here, 

So many still in bed ? 

And why do some now seated here, 

So ghastly look, the while ; 
Then start, and seek the open air, 

With such unearthly smile V 

Ha ! ha ! old Father Neptune 'tis. 

Taking the hill of fare; 

And every land-lubber who sails, 

Must pay a tribute there 

A Victim. 



fortress Monroe. 



H, no ! I shall never forget it, 
Thro' life, wheresoever I go ; 
I'm sure I shall never regret it — 
That visit to Fortress Monroe. 

We left the good ship, for the steamer, 

After breakfasting only so-so ; 
Up at five — what an hour for a dreamer — 

To turn out for Fortress Monroe. 

So brightly the sunbeams did quiver, 

The waters were all of a glow; 
As zepher just ruffled the river, 

"While we steamed down to Fortress Monroe. 

Thro' the streets of the village we wander, 
The boughs of the fig-trees below ; 

We pluck the ripe fruit, and we wonder 
They should grow here, at Fortress Monroe. 

The general receives us politely, 
While sweetly the music did flow; 

The recruits, with maneuvers so sprightly, 
Keeping time — down at Fortress Monroe. 



90 FORTRESS MONROE. 

The live oaks are flourishing o'er us, 
And darkly their shadows do throw ; 

The birds joining in with the chorus 
Of the band, down at Fortress Monroe. 

Escorting us over the station, 
The arms and munitions to show ; 

The biggest gun in all creation, 
We saw there, at Fortress Monroe. 

To the general's abode now retiring, 
Where refreshments they freely bestow ; 

The surroundings and garden admiring, 
Quite charm'd we're with Fortress Monroe. 

The hour for departure arriving, 
With adieus and good wishes we go; 

A bright dream of memory's hiving, 
Seems that visit to Fortress Monroe 




Mrs. f n. 



arewell ! and where e'er thro' life's journey you stray, 
Kindred hearts that respond to your own when you 
Will you linger a moment along your bright way, [find , 
To think of the friends you are leaving behind ? 

Alas ! how oft friendship will lose its warm glow, 
When the dark clouds of absence o'ershadow the ray; 

As the bright flowers of summer no longer will blow, 
When autumn has taken their sunshine away. 

Sometimes we will meet in our wanderings thro' life, 
A soul, that it seems, we forever have known, 

But had lost in the season of turmoil and strife, 
And again have recover'd to claim as our own. 

Should fate intervene and ordain we must part, 
So rude is the shock that we feel, and severe ; 

It seems as tho' joy was forsaking the heart, 
With the last farewell, as it dies on the ear. 




f o Slla. 

t^ 1 <Lv^ 



LLA in that laughing eye, 
Cupid's lances I descry; 
In the meshes of your hair 
I see the urchin lurking there; 
With the dimples of your cheek, 
He is playing hide and seek; 
While your pouting lip he kisses, 
And revels in a sea of blisses. 
What can we poor mortals do, 
Now the God possesses you V 
Surely we must fast and pray, 
While he banquets every day ; 
Would you grant one kiss to me. 
How transported I should be ! 




§HE llNG. 



[ Written in the year, 1870.] 



OOD people, I sing of this famous old Ring, 
They are harping about in the papers; 
If you believe what is said, it is raising old Ned, 
And cutting up all sorts of capers. 
So it is ! 



We'll take them to task; some questions we'll ask, 
Which if they're true men, they will answer; 

And if they are not, may they all go to pot, 
As the Frenchmen are doing in France sir. 
That's what's the matter ! 



Come, tell us Big Six, how you're coining your bricks, 

Don't think that I wish to be witty; 
But between I and you, it is certainly true, 

You're phlebotomizing this city. 
Thou shalt not steal ! 



94 THE RING. 

For polticing streets, those swinging receipts, 
Pray tell us who pockets the tin, sir ? 

The victims declare, you get your full share, 
While they're polticed outside and in, sir. 
Pretty thick ! 

Peter, pray tell, was that interest a sell, 
Were you doing it just for a blind ? 

Or making amends, for a host of your friends, 
Who were gobbling up all they could find, 
In an official way ? 

Mickey Mc'Grind, with his shirt out behind, 
When first Ik; arrived in this city, 

Set up a gin mill and a contraband still, 
And now he's the Honorable Mickey. 
Bully boy. 

Harry Genet, where did you get 
The Soap for the house you're erecting; 

Was it fighting the Ring, last winter and spring, 
And then their best offer accepting ? 
Do tell ! 

Jimmy O'Brien, why did you try on, 
Against father Tammany kicking ? 

You soon found you sap, losing your pap; — 
You had nothing but dry bones for picking - 
Poor Jimmy ! 



THE RING. 95 

Mayor 0. Hall, in your speech last fall, 

You say nothing of millions expended; 
Please tell us where we taxpayers will be, 

By the time these assessments have ended ? 
Ancillary do ? 

For a city improvement at once, there's a movement, 

If — if there's plenty of com on the cob ; 
If not, it may lay till the judgement day, 

For nobody touches the job. 

" You know how it is yourself." 

Oh ! for the days, when honor's bright rays, 

Illumined the heads of the State; 
'Ere government was made a rascally trade, — 

When men could afford to be great. 
Let us pray ! 




Jhe Jrade to |earn. 



Air — The Wearing of The Green. 
[Written Dec. 30th, 1870.] 

IjtQ&J A 1 1 ) Tom to me one summer's day, 
[ftS^flwl Reposing in the .shade; 
" Old fellow, as my funds are low, 

I'm going to start a trade; 
I'll lie, and cheat, and plunder too, 

For, money and position," 
" Why Tom," cried I, "you want to be, 
A city politician." 

There's many a one, ten years ago, 

Who was not worth a cent ; 
Could scarcely get enough to eat, 

And pay his monthly rent, 
Now counts his millions, keeps his coach, 

His servants and all that, 
And cruises where he pleases, 

In his splendid steamer yacht. 



TO 97 



Buy out a corner rum-hole Tom, 

Treat the Bowery boys; 
Kill two or three policemen, 

To make a little noise, 
Next you run for alderman, 

You're sure to win the race, 
For Tammany endorses you, 

As just fit for the place. 

And now with your resources, 

You're bound to make a raise, 
With Sweeny, Tweed and company, 

To flourish all your days; 
Now as a great philanthropist, 

You sound the trump of fame, 
Give one week's pickings to the poor, 

And immortalize your name. 



fo 



|ijkNffli EED you ask what I wish, 
H&Kyy Sure my eyes, they disclose 
The secret, and that without blinking; 

The tongue would not dare — 
O, no — the Lord knows, 

A glance will betray all we're thinking. 



Jo 



RE you good at the language of eyes ? 
Look in mine, you will there see my wishes; 
My glances as well as my sighs, 

Say— "I want to devour you with kisses." 



ffo Irs. 



HOULD you ask my desire, 
a| Or what I require, 
The tongue would not dare to disclose it; 
Perhaps it might chance, 
The eyes in a glance, 
Innocently, thus would expose it. 



Pne of the |§oys. 

ttMeil TELIj you, Pin one of the boys ! 

ILVlVJI I Wag f our y ears 1(J ] ast J unC) 

I can make a considerable noise, 
And you bet ! I can sing you a tune, 
Fol de rol riddle rol ri do ! 

These petticoats won't do for me, 
I can tell you, much longer, mamma; 

'Tis trowsers I want, do you see ? 
And perhaps I will smoke a segar, 
Fol de rol riddle rol ri do ! 

I'm thinking of sparking the girls, 

And petticoats are not the go; 
There's Mamie Bross with her bright curls, 

I think I'll take her for my beau, 
Fol de rol riddle rol ri do ! 

I tell you I'm one of the boys, 

Believe me, I'm going to try, 
To cut a dash— petticoats smash, 

Sport top boots, smoke cheroots — 
How is that for high '? 

Fol de rol riddle rol ri do ! 



Plind Brook. 

T- rax 



*^S?r s ' < '' more "I 1 " 11 'I' 1 ' old familiar spot, 

IesSs! Which now, alas! has past to stranger hands, 

After an absence of long years, I gaze; — 

The ancient farm-house with its time stain'd front 

Is standing as of old. 

But the huge weeping willow at the entrance gate 

With the old master, now has past away. 

Without a trace to tell where once its branches waved. 

Upon the road and lawn, yet stand as sentinels, 

Those giant locusts whose rugged trunks 

Have swayed the stormy blasts 

Of four score years or more. 

Here as each summer vacation, 

Most impatiently longed for arrived, 

A happy hoy, with wild delight I left 

My books, the noise and glamour of the busy city, 

To revel in the luxury of this rustic home. 

Received with welcomes kind from many friends, 

The uncle, aunt and cousins, 

Who warmly their young visitor received; 

Greeted by the perfume of the fresh mown meadows, 

The birds wild notes, the lowing kine, 

The brawling; brooklet, and the myriad 

Rural sounds which charm the city ear. 



BLIND BROOK. 101 

Scarce would an hour elapse, 

Ere with eager steps I'd hasten on 

To look again upon the winding brook, 

That of my thoughts had been the truant theme, 

Of many an ill spent school time hour. 

To rove its grassy banks along, 

Where grew the pungent water-mint, 

Whose perfume now, my nostril never greets 

But quick it brings the old brook back to me, 

In all its turns and windings as of yore. 

The banks here, high and steep, 

There, sloping to the water's edge, 

The little islands with swamp willows crowned, 

Whose brilliant yellow green, the distance makes 

A golden sea of flowers. 

Still further on, darkly drooping, 

The sombre hemlock towers above the stream, 

Reflected in the chrystal depths below. 

Here oft with rod of birch 

And primitive line of twisted tow, 

I lured the eager chub, the sunfish and the silver-side, 

And with exultant shout cast them out 

Flopping on the burning sand. 

Returning with my catch at sound of 

Dinner horn, to find the old watch dog 

Away from sultry noontide beams, 

Stretching himself along the shady north side, 

To doze the bright long hours away. 

Where oft with smother'd bark and working limbs, 

In fancy he pursues the rabbit, skunk or woodchuck, 



102 BLIND BROOK. 

And dreaming, thus some by-gone chase resumes. 

Can I forget " Deep Hole" 

Where first I learn'd to swim, 

After innumerable half drownings, 

Chokings, gaspinga and struggles — 

Down to the very bottom striking and kicking, 

Holding my breath the while, 

Expeetinu- each moment when 

Some lurking monster of the deep, 

A water snake or snapping turtle, 

Would seize me for his prey? 

Tis strange, yet to this day 

Tho' fond of swimming as a water rat, 

A nameless dread will overcome me quite 

If once beyond my depth I chance to get, 

That causes me again to strike for shore, 

As if Old Scratch himself was after me. 




i 



NFATHOMABLE. 



HINK not, my love a passing dream, 
As changing as the skies; 
Or wanton as the vagrant bee's 
As in a flower he lies. 

O ! deem it not a fading flower, 

That blossoms but to die; 
Or shallow as a mountain stream, 

A summer's sun will dry. 

But deem it fervid as the sun, 

As boundless as the sea; 
As wide as are the worlds above, 

In their immensity. 




Resignation. 



H ! when I am with you my heart is all gladness, 
So brightly and quickly time passes away; 
But now you are going, my grief and my sadness, 
In spite of my efforts, I clearly betray. 

It seems when my heart feels such anguish at parting, 
That the blisses of love are o'er balanced by woe; 

But again when we meet and the joy — tears are starting. 
Such raptures no heart bul a lover's can know. 

Tho' we part, I'll endeavor, my sorrows to smother, 
Remembering I'll soon be united to you; 

Secure, tho' away you'll not smile on another, 
While you know that I love you, so fondly and true. 




# 



I^Sj II • "-'"I- love, and dreary, 
iPsaal Our parting will be; 
For the hours seem most weary, 
When absent from thee. 



I strive to be cheerful, 
When thou art away ; 

But the heart that is fearful, 
Can never be gay. 

Daily I'll number, 

The hours of thy stay, 

Oh ! would I could slumber, 
The dull hours away. 

I'll pray when in sadness, 
My eyes do o'errlow ; 

That only with gladness, 
Thy bright orbs may glow. 



106 TO 



And yet not too airy, 
I'd have thee the while; 

Sometimes, Oh ! be chary, 
Of glances and smiles. 

And hope shall support me, 

I will not repine; 
While thy dear lines report me, 

Thy heart is still mine. 

I'll think of the meeting, 
When heart close to heart , 

In the transports of greeting, 
Each doubt shall depart. 




f loSETTA. 



H! Cupid's dart has pierced my heart, 
From your bright eyes he shot it; 
Then yours I asked to heal the smart, 
The time — have you forgot it? 

No maid so fair that will compare 

With you my sweet Rosetta, 
And every day I do declare 

I think I love you better. 

'Mid roses sweet that flush your cheek, 
The charming dimples sporting; 

Seem to be playing hide and seek, 
Each sunny smile a courting. 

Come press to mine those lips of thine, 

Thy kisses are far sweeter 
Than nectar drank by gods divine, 

Or saints like Simon Peter. 



Jo 



EAREST, don thy robe of snow, 
Crown thy brows with garlands gay, 
Let thy cheeks with roses glow ; — 
Welcome to our wedding day. 



Now I claim thee for my bride, 
And vow to love thee ever more, 

Thro 1 life's journey as we glide, 
Till its fleeting pulse is o'er. 

Calmly as a summer sea 

Reflecting Heaven's brightest ray ; 
Loving and beloved by thee, 

Time will sweetly u;lide away. 




fflGHT f APS. 



H ! I dream'd last night, I got so very tight, 
A friend had to carry me to bed; 
But the worst of the joke, was this morning when I woke, 
With a devil of a pain in the head — head — head — 
An excruciating pain in the head ! 

I thought with a friend, I went on a bend, 
That we made around a thousand calls — about ; 
But what we did it for, or why I am so sore, 
Hang it ! if I'm able to make out — out — out — 
Tis a mystery I never shall make out ! 

I feci quite indisposed, one eye is tightly closed, 

While my nose is in a pitiable plight; 

I hope I may be shot, but I think I must have got, 

In my sleep somehow or other in a fight — fight — fight — 

Somnambulistically in a fight ! 

I happen'd just to pass, before a looking-glass, 

O, thunder ! bless me! what's that on my head ? 

Ruffled all round — a night-cap I'll be bound, 

" Beyond a doubt I'm luny, — then I said— said — said — 

Who does this belong to ?" I said. 



110 MICKEY McCOY. 

Now all you clever sparks, who are given to skylarks, 
Whether Susan Janes; or Carolines, or Kates; 
Let the feminines go by — don't take too much old rye, 
And their vanities won't ride j'our fuddled pates — pates — 
Their night-caps won't be mounting on your pates, [pates. 



» ■ » > 



llCKEY SfcloY. 



URE I'm Mickey McCoy 
And a broth of a boy, 
I can handle a stick now wid any; 
I was born in a bog, 
Where there's nary a frog, 
Hard by the famed town of Killkenny. 

I went to the wars, 

Where I won great applause, 
For fighting so bravely and steady ; 

A Frenchman I'd stop, 

And his foot off, I'd chop, 
His head, it was shot off already. 

One day I was there, 
When whack thro' the air, 



MICKEY McUOY. Ill 

Came screaming a shell like the divil; 

" By St. Patrick " cried I, 

" I'll bid you good-bye, 
The blackguards are getting uncivil." 

So I turned on my heel, 

To avoid their cold steel, 
Making tracks for the bogs of Killkenny; 

Where thro' long winter nights, 

I brag of my fights, 
Of the dirty French, murdering so many. 

Now I drink when I'm dry, 

And why shouldn't I ? 
1 Tis myself that is gallant and friskey; 

Och hone ! 

I'm as dry as a bone, 
<rive me a sup of the whiskey ! 




ICE AN. 

H, my dear Mrs. Davis ! do tell, 
Have you thought it all over now, well v 
What makes you do so ? 
Why to sea will you go, 
To be tossed by the billows pell-mell ? 

You'll be sea-sick as sure as you live ! 

If you're not, I'll a big apple give, 

Your poor head I'll be bound, 

Like a top will spin round, 

With your stomach as w r eak as a sieve ! 

At night when you get in your berth, 

Lord ! how 7 you will long for dry earth; 

As you lie on your bed, 

To be stood on your head, 

Do you think 'twill excite you to mirth V 

And then if there comes up a squall — 

(There is nothing more likely at all!) 

'Mid the tumult and roar, 

To be pitched on the floor, 

Or rolling right up the side wall. 



ON A DISH OF FRIED FLOUNDERS. 

And pray tell, on what will you dine? 

The viands no doubt, will be fine; 

With a stomach so batter'd, 

So disgusted and shatter'd, 

A ragout will be nice with your wine. 

Then dear Mrs. Davis do tell, 

Have you thought it all over now, well? 

What makes you do so, 

Why to sea will you go? 

I tell you, Old Ocean's a sell! 



113 



m 



A BlSH OF SRIED S'lounders. 

5> . &T> tTX, 



FLOUNDER fish, is a capital dish, 
If you've nothing better to eat; 
I don't care a button for your chops of mutton, — 
A porter-house steak is the meat, 



The way to prepare, is to broil quite rare, 
Then spread it with butter that's sweet; 

Well season now, and you'll allow, 
This steak is a stunner to beat. 



!#[Y ©REAM. 



H! I dream'd last night of my younger days, 
When on Broadway the fashions I sported; 
When bright eyes cast upon me their sunnyest rays. 
And by glances and smiles I was courted. 



I thought, as one day I was strolling along 
The pave, decked with beauties entrancing, 

I espied a fair creature, amid the gay throng, 
With the face of an angel, advancing. 

1 thought that her eves — of a deep azure blue, 
'Neath dark fringes were modestly beaming; 

When she raised them, the glance as of sunbeam they 
Wounded my hear! past redeeming. [threw, 

1 thought that she smiled as she saw my fixed gaze, 
And it seemed as if heaven was dawning; 

As bright was the smile as Sol's golden rays, 
When a June sky he wakes in the morning. 

I thought thai she spoke, and her voice was as sweet 
As the first bird's of spring, in its numbers. 

Or the harp that in childhood had lulled me to sleep, 
When by zephyrs awakened from slumbers, 

I thought that we strolled arm in arm down the street, 

I, the envy of every beholder; 
I awoke, promenading the room in a sheet, 

With a pillow tucked under my shoulder. 



f HE glGAR. 



I HO' they've sung in the praises of women and 
Both here and in regions afar, [wine, 

And men in all ages declare them divine, 
Yet they're naught to the fragrant cigar. 

So soothing it is, at the close of the day, 

Casting business and troubles afar: 
Each puff seems to hurry some sorrow away, 

On the smoke of your cheerful cigar. 

If a coldness is seen in the friend that you prize, 
And suspicion your friendship would mar; 

The cloud that depresses, at once will arise, 
With the smoke of the friendly cigar. 

If at night you return to your home in a pet, 

In the mood for a family jar, 
If rid of the blue devils quickly you'd get, 

Blow a cloud from the cheering cigar. 

Tho' fortune deserts you, and friendships decay, 

Tho' fate seems every joy to debar, 
Yet si ill you may brighten life's glimmering ray 

By the aid of the magic cigar. 



116 TO 



m 

jjjjg'g^ WAS — some one, who gave me this rose, 
[lEgJllI With perfume so deliriously sweet, 
It can only be rivall'd by those, 
Which bloom on her beautiful cheek. 

I'm sure 'tis for me to decide, 

For I've gather'd them there with delight, 
If she saw this I'm certain she'd chide, 

And declare that she thought 'twas not right. 



I<> 



WO years have past sine first we met. 
Two years this coming June; 
I low well do I rememher yet. 
Thai summer afternoon. 

Methinks I see thee seated now, 

Thai open window by; 
With blushing cheek and polished brow, 

And modest beaming eye. 



TO "7 



Thy joyous laugh again I hear, 

That dimpled smile I see; 
I then dream'd not, thy smile would e'er 

Become so dear to me. 

I call to mind the sparkling wit, 

That without effort played; 
And how I thought thy form was fit 

To grace a Persian maid. 

And may my days in sorrow set, 
Ere life has spent its bloom ; 

If e'er I cause thee to regret 
That summer afternoon. 



go 



HEN evening shades obscure the day 
And love's own star 1 sec; 
Tho' from thy side I'm far away, 
My thoughts are all of thee. 

And when the moon her silvery beams; 

Throws o'er the silent night; 
My heart is filled with waking dreams, 

Of thee its sole delight. 



118 



TO MY WIFE. 



There's not a breeze that passes by, 
Unburden'd goes from me; 

And every throb, and every sigh, 
Belongs alone to thee. 



fo 



3 



IFE. 



HO' passion's wild romance is o'er, 
That in possession faded, 
And love can ne'er again restore 
The dream by time invaded, — 
My little wife, I love thee still, 
The charm is yet about me ! 
And tho' I sometimes use thee ill, 
I could not live without thee! 




§ET US BE f AY. 

MET us be gay, 
Youth's but a flower, 
It lives for a day, 

It blooms for an hour. 
Let us be gay, 

Sorrows will come, 
Joys fleet away 
Ere they've begun. 

Let us be gay, 

Grief will not last; 
Time will convey 

Them quick to the past. 
Let us be gay, 

You love and I, 
Laughing away 

Each tear and each sigh. 

Let us be gay, 

With spirits as light 
As zephyrs that play 

On a warm summer's night. 



120 



ACROSTIC. 



Let us be gay 

While youth is yet ours, 
And cull, while we may, 

Sweets from way flowers. 

Let us be gay, 

Let us be glad, 
With age and decay 

'Tis time to be sad. 



c^J 



CROSTIC 



[jFH|3 VER constanl is the sun, 

I ^KsPal Unchanging still his course is run; 

Resting neither night or day, 

Ever coursing on his way ; — 

True to love, oh, may I be! 

True to love, and true to thee — 

As constant and as warm as he. 




Snnerbeller §urde 



A DOLEFUL BALLAD. 

Air — "repent ye bummers." 



TTENTION all ye damsels, wives and widors. 
Ye bloomers, woman's rights, and all combm'd, 
No matter what's the matter — what's your station, — 
No matter what you be — be resigned. 

Ye feminies and neutrals all harken, 

I'll take my affidavit, 'pon my word ! 
Which it happen'd in this town to my knowledge, 

Which her name it was Annerbeller Burde. 

A particularly fascinating female, 

With a reputation chalked up to A 1 ; 
To a pastry shop she hired out for a living, 

Which obligated her to be undone. 

Ye Gods, now what in thunder were you doing, 
Why did'nt you protect this lamb from guile ? 

That move you knew would lead to an explosion, 
You chunkheads you — you knew it all the while. 



122 ANNERBELLER BURDE. 

A biler busts and many blow'cl to blazes, 
Are scattered round in fragments fearful small,. 

There chances one, who saves his precious bacon,. 
"How providential ! " is the cry of all. 

O, what was it, deluded Annerbeller— 
Was it providential, chance, or fate, or what? 

She might have had another sitivation, 
Where bam-boo-zel-ed she would not have got. 

Which was loafing every evening on the corner, 
A slick young man — a pious look had he ; 

Was he eyeing juicy muttons in the windore ? 
Was he ogleing of Annerbeller B. ? 

One evening, by the counter, munching peanuts, 
She stood, when lo! he popped inside the door; 

He 'low'd he'd heard a deal about her muttons — 
Then sampled one — then sampled numbers more. 

He looked so meek, and talk'd so mild and pious, 
But heavens ! how he bolts them mutton pies, 

Her cookies, crullers, what-nots and turn-overs; 
Struck dumb, the damsel gazed in mute surprise. 

A brand he said he pluck'd was from the burning, 
His soul no more on earthly joys to fix; 

Then with her last turn-over' he departed — 

"Geld! geld!" she cried, "mine got he's goot fir nix." 



§ONG. 



OME lads fill away, why should we delay, 
To banish all sorrow and troubles; 
Who would not delight to be with us to-night, 

And leave this dull earth and its struggles? 
Let the old fogies rail, and with arguments stale 

Find fault with the glow of our glasses; 
By vapors thus moved, they long ago proved 
Themselves most egregious asses. 
Then lads fill away, &c. 

A bumper around to these sages profound, 

We envy them not their potations; 
One brimmer like this is, excites more to blisses, 

Than seas of such watery rations, 
Then lads fill away, why should we delay 

To banish all sorrow and troubles; 
Who would not delight, to be with us to-night, 

And leave this dull earth and its struggles? 




9L Reverie. 



NE morning in Spring when all nature was smiling, 
And blossoms were shedding perfumes o'er the lea, 
While the birds with their songs the bright hours were be- 
I musingly sat 'neath a wide spreading tree. [guiling. 

The spring time of life I compared to the flowers, 
For it blossoms as brightly and sweetly as they; 

'Tis warmed by the sunshine and sprinkled with showers, 
That but for a moment their shadows betray. 

And does it not too like the roses soon wither, 
A few fleeting seasons — and then comes decay; 

Old age is the winter that chills it forever, 
And steals all its beauty and freshness away. 




Retrospective. 



k 

?jj> 



HEN life was yet young. 
With a flattering tongue 
I beguiled a young maiden so cheery; 
I vow'd that the spring 
Not a blossom should bring, 
When I did prove false to my deary. 



But love is a boy 
So exacting and coy, 

That of him I soon 'gan to weary; 
I hurried away 
From her cottage one day, 

And jilted my poor little deary. 

I have roam'd the world wide, 
And its pleasures have tried, 

But have tasted to find they soon weary; 
And often I sigh 
With the mist in my eye, 

When I think what I lost with my deary. 




f HE PUMPKINVILLE fiWs. 

(TO BE SUNG IN YANKEE COSTUME.) 



OLKS, I've just arrived in town, 
Tnral lural, tural lural! 
From Pumpkinville this evening down, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
The elephantus for to see, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Cousin Zachariah Shadpole invited me, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Zeke, says he, do tell the news, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
And he squinted at my squeaky shoes, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
I told him how in Pumpkinville, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
The weather was uncommon chill, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
That Hannah Jane had caught the mumps, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 



THE PUMPKINVILLE NEWS. 127 

And pa and ma were in the dumps, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
That Zephaniah was courtin' Sue, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
And Lemuel he was looking blue, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Parson Spruce had run away, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
With Dorcus Jones and Cynthy Gray, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Patience Drybones wears a wig, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Our old sow has nary pig, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Deacon Squaretoe's took to drink, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Ruth refused him— so they think, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Widow Grim has jined the church, 

Tural tural, tural lural ! 
The new school-marm lays on the birch, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Brindle's about drying up, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Rachel's canine's got a pup, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Peaceful Thanks has had a fight, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
And got laid eout — it served him right, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 



128 THE PUMPKINVILLE NEWS. 

Towser chawed our Thomas cat, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Sol and Judith had a spat, 
Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Long-tail squash are scarce this year, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Garden sass is dreadful dear, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Tildy had a sewin bee, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
O gravy! she's so sweet on me, 

Tural lural, lural lural! 
Jemimey's baby's got red hair, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Jemimey says how she do'nt care, 

Tural lural, lural lural! 
Squire Gobbs's daughter Ann, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Scorched her bed with the warming pan, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Yaller ingin meal has riz, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
The patent soap-fat -man means biz, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Hump-back dresses are the go, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
The deacon's wife is an old scare crow, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Jerusha Peck was taken with a chill, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 



THE PUMPKINV1LLE NEWS. 129 

And she swallowed an antiflabergistic pill, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Uncle Pete went up the lane, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
And by-and-by he came down again, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
Anabella Tabitha Stoubt. 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Had a rotting tooth pulled out, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Temperance Pots has rurny breath, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
The yarth-quake scared her most to death, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Perkins Smart's got one glass eye, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Peleg takes it on the sly, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Rebecca's rooster whip'd a pig, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
And laid an egg, she says, so big; 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
The Pumpkinville church had a fair, 

Tural lural, tural lural ! 
And swindled everybody there, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
The gals sold kisses and boquets, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
And robbed you in all sorts of ways, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 



130 THE TUMPKINVILLE NEWS. 

But as it was a pious fraud, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
The parson did himself, applaud, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Six elopements strange to say 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Followed soon this pious play, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Now good folks, I guess I'll go, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
And set up for a monkey show, 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Sary, what are you about? 

Tural lural, tural lural! 
Does your anxious mother know you're eoutV 

Tural lural, tural lural! 




She SIebuff. 



EWITCHING young Clara, 
She's dear to my marrow- 



Last night thro' the waltz I did twised her r 
I look'd in her eyes, 
I caught her soft sighs, 

And then — oh, ye Gods! then I kissed her, 

She gave me a look, 
Which I read as a book, 
As gently I tried to assist her ; 
"You brute, you," it said, 
"What's got in your head?" 

And damn'e ! I'm sorry I kissed her. 




I Knew by the Ruddles. 

Air : — I knew by the smoke that so gracefully 

CURLED. 

lES'Ol KNEW by the puddles, all sprinkled around 
|KLB| The cabin for ladies, a chewer was near; 
And I said if a brute's in this world to be found, 
The said individual is certainly here. 

Of delicate women there stood a full score, 
While the biped was seated, with others, near by; 

Of intruders, perhaps there were thirty or more, 
And frequently, round did tobacco juice fly. 

And this, I exclaim'd, is the land of the free ! 

See ! here is democracy taking its ease, 
While ladies are standing at full liberty, 

On the floor to be seated, as soon a^i they please. 

Oh, nvy country! is all the old gallantry dead, 
That once of thy sons was the glory and pride? 

Has chivalry for ever departed and fled? 
Alas! where now shall thy daughters abide? 




f o Irs. i f . g 

8B|jjH AKE WELL ! may old ocean serenely repose, 
|gj^g| As your ship for that bright isle is cleaving, 
May the skies, as your dreams, be all coleur de rose, 
Is the prayer of the friends you are leaving. 



May you find there a haven of quiet and rest, 

From the strife of the city afar; 
With health — priceless boon — once more to be blessed, 

And naught your contentment to mar. 

Your dear ones will miss you, when far from your side, 
And count the dull hours of your stay ; 

But hope will assist them their yearnings to hide, 
And cheer them on, while you're away. 

Your friends will oft sigh for the light of your smile, 

That has left them on others to beam; 
While pensively musing, their memories the while 

With thoughts of the wanderer will teem. 

How the poor will bemoan the sad loss of a friend, 

Such as heaven but seldom supplies; 
They'll pray the great father his blessings to send, 

And guard you, with tear-streaming eyes. 



134 



LOST. 



Again, now, farewell, may old ocean repose r 

Serene as a midsummer sea; 
With health, joy and gladness all coleur de rose, 

May you soon wafted hack to us he. 



§0ST. 



BLIND boy once to my cottage came, 
Love, was the little urchin's name; 
I liked his ways exceedingly, 
And he seemed fond, as well, of me; 
Day by day he dearer grew, 
Until from him all joy I drew. 



One day I miss'd him from my side, 

His absence I could ill abide; 

I thought perhaps that he had strayed, 

And lay reposing in some shade ; 

I anxious sought the garden round — 

Alas! the boy could not be found. 

My peace is gone, my heart is sore, 

I feel he will return no more ; 

With love and hope together fled, — 

Would I were numbered with the dead. 



lORTY-SlX. 



ORTY-SIX— aye forty-six! 
How fast the years have fleeted by, 
As down we glide life's ruffled tide; 
Time ever seems more swift to fly. 

Sad revealing o'er me stealing, 
To feel the bloom of youth decay; 

Each varying grace of form and face 
Fading — fading day by day. 

The sunny brow where is it now? 

With tell-tale mark and wrinkle seam'd; 
The eyes tho' bright have lost the light, 

The light of old that from them gleam'd. 

The wavy hair so debonair, 

With streaks of gray is sprinkled o'er; 
The sunken cheek of care will speak; 

The once ripe lip is full no more. 



136 ADVENTURES OF PHELEM O'SLAVGHTERDY. 

The buoyant tread will .soon have fled, 
Changed to paces short and slow; 

With youthful dreams the memory teems, 
And joys departed long ago. 

Dreams invaded — hopes how faded, 
The fleeting, wasting year by year, 

Of life's glory — tells the story; 
Youth has past — old age is near. 



THE ADVENTURES OF 

§HELEM S'SlAUGHTERDY. 

(TO BE SUNG BY PHELEM HIMSELF.) 



'5)13 E asy good people and listen to me, 
J!l Och hone ! listen to me ; 

And you'll hear my adventures by land and by sea, 

Och hone! by land and by sea! 
Phelem O'Slaughterdy sure is my name, 

Och hone! sure is my name! 
And of mighty respectable people I came, 

Och hone! people I came! 
My father direct from the quality come, 

Och hone! quality come! 
For his uncle was butler to Lord Spatterum, 

Och hone ! Lord Spatterum ! 



ADVENTURES OF PHELEM O'SLAUGHTERDY. 137 

'Twas Tony Mc'Nail the great justice of peace, 

Och hone! justice of peace! 
My mother twin cousin was with his wife's neice, 

Och hone! with his wife's neice! 
So you see with the best I can hold up my head, 

Och hone ! hold up my head ! 
As a gintleman born, whatever is said, 

Och hone ! whatever is said ! 
I was raised in a mansion near Donnybrook Fair, 

Och hone ! Donnybrook Fair ! 
Wid two speckled pigs and Tim Finnegin's mare, 

Och hone! Tim Finnegin's mare! 
The nurse told my mother the night I was born, 

Och hone! night I was born! 
As she drank my good health i' the top of the morn, 

Och hone ! top of the morn ! 
" This broth of a boy will go roving you'll find, 

Och hone! roving you'll find! 
For he's marked wid a steamboat upon him behind, 

Och hone ! upon him behind ! 
As sure as my name now is Peggy McGee, 

Och hone! Peggy McGee! 
That steamboat will carry him over the sea," 

Och hone! over the sea! 
And faith she was right, for I scarce was a man, 

Och hone ! scarce was a man ! 
"When to travel all over the world I began, 

Och hone ! world I began ! 
Wid my father's old breeches and coat on my back, 

Och hone ! coat on my back ! 



138 ADVENTURES OF PHELEM O'SLAUGHTERDY. 

My grandmother's petticoat made in a sack, 

Och hone! made in a sack! 
Full of nothing at all, but a pair of old shoes, 

Och hone! pair of old shoes! 
And a paper chuck full of the Donnybrook news, 

Och hone! Donnybrook news! 
I left dear old Ireland for foreign parts bound, 

Och hone! foreign parts bound! 
A seeking my fortune the wide world around, 

Och hone! the wide world around! 
Weighing anchor at daybreak our ship she hove to, 

Och hone! ship she hove to! 
The billows they roll'd and the wind how it blew, 

Och hone! the wind how it blew! 
So sea-sick I got that I thought I was kilt, 

Och hone! thought I was kilt! 
While my breakfast all over the vessel was spilt, 

Och hone! vessel was spilt! 
I could not stand up so I had to lay Hat, 

Och hone! had to lay Hat! 
When my stomach capsized itself whack in my hat, 

Och hone! whack in my hat! 
I was turned inside out and I tried for to pray, 

Och hone ! tried for to pray ! 
But murthur, oh murtlmr, was all I could say, 

Och hone! all I could say! 
My head going round like Foggerty's mill, 

Och hone! Foggerty's mill! 
Old Neptune the blackguard he treated me ill, 

Och hone! treated me ill! 



ADVENTURES OF PHELEM O'SLAUGHTERDY. 139 

One day I got better and stood on my feet, 

Och hone! stood on my feet! 
And then, by the powers, what rations I ate, 

Och hone! rations I ate! 
We fell short of provisions when off the French coast, 

Och hone ! off the French coast ! 
With nary a pratie to boil, or to roast, 

Och hone ! to boil or to roast ! 
With the pork barrel full of just nothing but brine, 

Och hone! nothing but brine! 
Not a ha'pence of vittles on board for to dine, 

Och hone! on board for to dine! 
The whiskey all gone — not even a sup, 

Och hone! not even a sup! 
To kill the blue divils and keep spirits up, 

Och hone ! keep spirits up ! 
The captain sent me, as a dauy resort, 

Och hone! dany resort! 
To the people on shore for to make a report, 

Och hone ! make a report ! 
'Tis myself that's the scholar, and that he well knew, 

Och hone! that he well knew! 
Polly Voo Franky, muss her mon, do! 

Och hone! muss her mon, do! 
'Twas Teddy, the piper, who taught me the tongue, 

Och hone! taught me the tongue! 
He was taching me Greek, when one day he got hung, 

Och hone! one day he got hung! 
Bad 'cess to the scalpeen, he swindled my mother, 

Och hone! swindled my mother! 



140 ADVENTURES OF PHELEM O'SLAUGHTERDY. 

Out of two quarters schooling to rue and my brother, 

Och hone ! me and my brother ! 
For the victuals he had, and the board that he ate, 

Och hone! board that he ate! 
Before he cracked open Mike Dockerty's pate, 

Och hone! Mike Dockerty's pate! 
If he'd let Mike alone, in the purtiest Greek 

Och hone ! purtiest Greek ! 
I'd be telling you now every word that I speak, 

Och hone ! word that I speak ! 
Well, they row'd me ashore in the jolly boat yawl, 

Och hone ! jolly boat yawl ! 
But divil a one was there jolly at all, 

Och hone! jolly at all! 
With stomachs so thin,. from the starving they had, 

Och hone! starving they had! 
'Twas a blessing that all of us didn't go mad, 

Och hone! didn't go mad! 
Or turn anthropophegi and eat up each other, 

Och hone! eat up each other! 
Och murthur! to think of it, son of my mother, 

Och hone ! son of my mother ! 
I called at a house where at dinnner they sat, 

Och hone ! dinner they sat ! 
And bowing politely, I took off my hat, 

Och hone! took off my hat! 
" Polly'Vou!" cried I, " God save you all here! 

Och hone! God save you all here! 
May you never be wanting the best of good cheer — 

Och hone ! the best of good cheer ! 



ADVENTURES OF PHELEM O'SLAUGHTERDY. 141 

For a loan of provisions I came from the ship, 

Och hone ! came from the ship ! 
For ateing and drinking we've nary a rip, 

Och hone ! we've nary a rip ! 
A barrel of pork, and praties a sack ! 

Och hone ! praties a sack ! 
The captain's unaisy there, 'till I fetch back," 

Och hone ! 'till I fetch back ! 
They nodded and jabber'd, but divil a word, 

Och hone ! divil a word 
Could I make out at all, of the jargon I heard, 

Och hone! jargon I heard! 
'Tis the loan of some whiskey, praties and pork, 

Och hone! praties and pork! 
Polly Vou Franky ! is it French you can talk ? 

Och hone! French you can talk! 
'Tis myself knows that same — you can't blarney me, 

Och hone! you can't blarney me! 
{I was gifting quite vex'd with their maneness, you see), 

Och hone! maneness you see! 
One ould haythen got up and began for to sputter, 

Och hone! began for to sputter! 
Shook his fist, and got choked with his brown bread 
and butter, 

Och hone! brown bread and butter! 
"Bad cess," now says I, " may you drown in a kittle, 

Och hone ! drown in a kittle ! 
Come out of that, sure and your stomachs I'll settle," 

Och hone ! stomachs I'll settle ! 
And I nabb'd a big pig that was gruntin' around, 



142 TO MRS. V N. 

Ochhone! gruntin' around! 
And away to the ship with her got, safe and sound, 

Och hone! got safe and sound! 
And from that day to this, no sinse can I make, 

Och hone! sinse can I make! 
At all of the lingo old Polly Vou spake, 

Och hone! Polly Vou spake! 



i, 



go Mrs. V n. 



HE roses you sent me 
Are faded and dead ; 
Lost is their beauty, 

Their lovliness fled ; 
But a perfume breathes round them, 

Which long will remain, 
To bring to remembrance 
Their glories again. 



'Tis thus with the doner, 

Tho' lost to us here; 
Tho' absent — though silent, 

To memory dear ; 
As the scent of the roses, 

Her virtues will bloom, 
O'er thoughts of her, breathing 

A lasting perfume. 



§L Pastoral Muet. 



<^C-' -xJO 



E. Pretty maiden let us stray, 

To the groves and meadows gay. 
Deck'd in summer's bright array, 
Rip fol rol de rol ri do ! 

Let us wander by the side 
Of the babbling streamlet's tide. 

Where the purple violets hide, 
Rip fol rol de rol ri do ! 

With the painted butterfly, 
Flitting o'er the blossoms nigh, 

Swift the sunny hours will fly, 
Rip fol rol de rol ri do ! 



She. Oh, no ! I may not rove with you, 
I tell you sir, it will not do, 
Such indescretion I should rue, 
Rip fol rol de rol ri do ! 

• 4 

He Charming maid — don't say you so, 

Come where the scented violets grow, 
Blue as your heavenly eyes they blow. ' 
Rip fol rol de rol ri do ! 



144 A PASTORAL DUET. 

She O, no, indeed ! I must away, 

You men are all deceivers gay, 
Who lead us simple maids astray, 
Rip fol rol de rol ri do ! 



He Come let us sit upon this stile, 

And breath the balmy air awhile, 
While nature all around doth smile, 
Rip fol rol de rol ri do ! 

I'll wreathe for you a garland gay, 
And crown you love's young queen of May, 

These kisses sweet, I take for pay, 
Rip fol rol de rol ri do ! 



She. Bold sir ! you'd better now be gone, 

There's pop a coming down the lawn, 
I'll tell him how you're going on, 
Rip fol rol de rol ri do ! 

Yet stay, good sir, you need not fear, 
My daddy is not coming near, 

Oh Lord ! what makes me feel so queer ? 
Rip fol rol de rol ri do ! 




Yoices of -Spring. 



ARK ; I hear the peepers sing 
In the marshy pools around, 
Tiny harbingers of Spring — 
They in multitudes abound. 

When the ides of March have sped, 
When the blustering winds are still, 

When April showers are warmly shed, 
Loud resounds the chorus shrill. 

With the blue bird's welcome note, 
With the meadows springing green, 

On the breeze at twilight float 

Thrilling tones from choirs unseen. 

Oft I've strayed at evening's fall 
By some lonely shelter'd pool, 

Heard the owlet's startling call, 
And mnskrat's plunge in w-aters cool. 

A thousand trilling voices sung, 

Echoing from bog to bog; 
The chorus loud and louder rung, 

But yet to view was nary frog. 



fuNLIGHT. 

TO A FRIEND. 

JPS§| HEER up! tho' the dark clouds of sorrow uow lower. 
|ftgBffl| Extinguishing every hope, as they roll ; 
Yet the sunlight will lift the grim vail in an hour, 

And brighten with joy-beams your grief ladened soul. 

Somewhere I have read of a talisman rare, 
In legend of old, of such wondrous might, 

Tho' the soul should be lost in the depths of despair, 
A ray from the gem would exalt it with light. 

Dear friend, of the talisman you are possess'd, — 
Tis truth ! it will pierce thro' your life's darken'd day;, 

One glance will dispel every care from your breast; 
The glance that sweeps slander's grim shadows away. 

Cheer up ! for your skies will with sunlight yet gleam. 

"The hour before day is the darkest of night; " 
There's a star in the heavens which kindly will beam, — 

Your sad heart, once more making happy and light. 




f OUSIN §|ay. 



WAS on a breezy afternoon in autumn's early days, 

The fleecy clouds were flying high, obscuring old 

Sol's rays, 

"When cousin May and I embark'd — to her the trip was new, 

On board the High Bridge boat, resolved that famous span 

to view. 



Now May was in her nineteenth year, a blooming rustic 

maid, 
And I — alas ! well, time has sped and left me in the shade; 
Her sparkling eyes, her dewy lips, her hair in ringlets hung, 
I musing saw, and sighed to think I was no longer young 

We left the boat, to climb the hill, with fallen leaves be- 

strown ; 
They spoke to me of hurried years, by time relentless sown; 
While May went tripping on before, with spirits light and 

free, 
Then laughing turned, to catch a glance which brought her 

back to me. 

I'm thinking May, of long ago, when with a girl as fair, 
I trod entranced, the earth to feel that heaven was every- 
where ; 
She long has been my wife, and now 'tis not that I complain. 
But memory's ever harping on that old, old time refrain. 



|o f r. and Irs. f . 



ON THE 25tll ANNIVEUSAHY OF THEIR WEDDING-DAY 



EAR friends on time's resistless stream, 
With pains and pleasures rife; 
A quarter of a century, 

Has seen you man and wife. 

Sometimes, no doubt, your course has been, 
With clouds and storms o'ercast; 

But faith and hope have guided you 
To havens of rest at last. 

Sometimes, as on a summer sea, 

Bland zephyrs softly blow ; 
And joy's full cup, with golden gleam 

Seems ready to o'erflow. 

But as the storm-clouds break away, 

And brightning skies appear, 
So is the sunshine lost in shade — 

There's nothing constant here. 

We meet to-night, to wish you joy ; 

May Heaven its blessings send 
To cheer you on — God grant you this! 

On to your journey's end. 



S Catastrophe. 



KNEW a smallish yaller dorg, 
They rated him a ratter; 



To whip a catalogue of cats, 

He rated a small matter; 
To shun this cat catastrophe, 

The scatted cats would scatter. 

One day offensive, near the fence 

A Thomas cat was calling; 
He'd rub his head and hoist his hack, 

And raise a squall by squalling; 
The purp, he purposed to oppose 

Such fearful catawawling. 

Although he sat upon his rump, 

He did not want a rumpus; 
He charged that well charged Thomas cat, 

And soon his end did compass; 
He seized his game to block his game, 

But found puss was no dumb puss. 



150 TO MISS LYDIA THOMPSON. 

He caught him, though he does not court, 

As at his rear he snatches; 
Tom turned and spit, and yowl'd and fit, 

And hlinded him with scratches; 
For with his paws he did not pause, 

But raked his hide in patches; 
And since that day, that purp won't stay 

When sight of Tom he catches. 



f o fifiss Iydia Thompson. 

ON A MATINEE DAY. 
TO BE SUNG AND DANCED A LA BRYANT'S MINSTRELS. 

|SP| LYDDY! oh Lyddy! 

IraHEal ]VIy peace of mind is gone; 

You'll be my death, 

I know you will! 

The way you're going on. 



O Lyddy! oh Lyddy! 

Your voice is dreadful sweet; 



TO MISS LYDIA THOMPSON. 



151 



If I'd a bunch of— of hollyhocks 
I'd lay them at your feet. 

Lyddy! oh Lyddy! 
Do cover them, I pray! 
Those limbs of yours 
I'm thinking of — 

1 swear it — night and day! 

O Lyddy! oh Lyddy! 

My brain is in a fluster; 

With love I soon 

Will busted be— 

Your bust is such a buster! 

O Lyddy! oh Lyddy! 
I'm dying in despair! 
My pants are rent, 
My cash is spent — 
To-day I can't be there! 




<t-<l) ^3- 



Earning to Iportsmen. 

^ io tit) 



HERE once was a sportsman who lived in our town, 
One o\y he went hunting a skunk, and he did! 
The gun it went off and the sportsman went down, 
On his back in a puddle, kerchunk, and he did! 

For you see when the sportsman he loaded his gun, 
He used too much powder and shot, and he did! 

So the gun it did kick, and the skunk he did run, 
And the sportsman the worst of it got, and he did! 

A warning to sports who are cutting a swell, 

In this little episode plainly we see; 
They must moderately charge who would have their shots 

Ammunition is wasted when furnished too free. [tell — 




■§ONG. 



OF THE DELUDED SMOKER. 

f§Hi ' P u1 m - v ''''"' tar— tar away! 
Ik3=m| Where now the hopes I cherished? 
My meerschaum is a mere sham, 

By fond delusion nourished; 
My dreams of Miss — where are they now? 
Forever — ever perished! 

A casket as the purest gem. 

The day I bought — encased it, 
To color it, I'd like to know 

How much " Lone Jack" I've wasted; 
The chap who sold that pipe and — me, 

Oh! how I'd like him basted. 

I've smoked it 'till. I've smoked myself 

The color of sole-leather ; 
I've blown a cloud both day and night, 

And in all sorts of weather, 
And now I'll stop it, or I fear 

We'll both sjo out together. 



154 



IMPROMPTU. 



Then take the vile pretense away, 
My dream of bliss is o'er; 

My meerschaum is a mere sham, 
I'll smoke the fraud no more ; 

I've been a fearful spooney, else 
I'd smoked it out before. 



-4 * « » ■ » »- 



Impromptu. 

O throw that nasty pipe away ! 
si Its stinking breath to smell, 
Is worse than assafoedita — 
Yea ! Stygian blasts from hell ! 




S0INING. 



& 



OME, please take this soup-dish away- 
I can dispatch with zest, 
A slice of roast or boiled, to-day, 
Substantials suit me best ! 



Oh ! whilst this aching void is here. 

My soul can know no peace; 
Give me a cut of lean, my dear, 

Devoid of fat or grease. 

Dear friend I'll trouble you once more, 

That turkey's hit the spot ! 
My heart tho' sorrow'd to its core, 

The breast, refuses not. 

No more ! grim hunger vanquished, lay;- 
Joy — peace, he leaves behind; 

I thank the Gods, that I to-day, 
Can truly say I've dined ! 




156 MY VALENTINE. 

Oyster -§tew. 

[t^SS^i (iIVE me, I pray thee, a good oyster stew, 
ig JSaaal [Relieve me, there's nothing so nice ! 
Roast meats, et caetera for dinner will do, 
For supper, let oysters suffice. 

When stew'd to a turn, so plump and so sweet, 
They're a dish for the Gods, I declare! 

And if ever you're wishing to give me a treat, 
Let a stew be comprised in the fare. 



tt Y Valentine. 



& 



I love such a gay little beauty, 
I'm bewitched by her smile and her eyes; 
Her ripe lips so laden'd with booty, 
Her form, which the fairest outvies. 



My heart with enchantment is teeming 

Its pulse is to ecstasy stir'd: 
Every smile, every glance has its meaning, — 

There's a charm in each motion, each word. 

No language her beauty expresses, 
Her graces no tongue can rehearse; 

Eyes, lips, smiles, dimples and tresses, 
( ) would 1 could picture in verse ! 



|0 *TTA. 



ISS Etta, I'll try to be funny, 
I admit it is out of my line; 
But I'll bother my brains and spend money, 
To make you a good valentine. 



I know how the rhymesters all do it, 
They talk about heaven and eyes — 

Each inch of a face, they'll go thro' it, — 
And wind up with bosoms and sighs. 

They'll talk about eyes so entrancing, 
That rival the stars in the night; 

When nonsense like this they're advancing, 
Put them down crazy or tight. 

They'll rave about lips that are sweeter 
Than sugar, or nectar, or such ; 

When likely the girl, should you meet her, 
Would prove to be. nothing but Dutch. 

They'll tell you of cheeks like ripe peaches, 

So downy, so rosy, so sweet; 
You must not believe in such speeches, 

I've bit them — they're not fit to eat. 



158 TO ETTA. 

They'll warble of golden-hued tresses, 
And sing such extravagant lays; 

But, bless me, such nonsense distresses — 
The hair is as red as a blaze. 



They'll harp about teeth, that in likeness, 

Resemble the purest of pearl; 
They're false ! a fig for their whiteness; — 

They're crockery, I tell you, my girl ! 

They'll rave about forms so bewitching, 

They rival the angels on high; 
I tell you 'tis cotton and stitching, 

What they say, my dear girl, is a story 

I'll not praise your form or your features, 

Or flatter by any devise ; 
I love you as one of God's creatures, 

And think you are so dreadful nice ! 




m 



Eogic. 



OUR pardon, dear girl ! 
My brain's in a whirl, 
I declare, I'm an object of pity; 
In my mind will revolve, 
This problem to solve; 
Is your mouth as sweet as 'tis pretty! 



A student am I, 

'Twere wicked to try, 
My advance as A.M. to be staying; 

You will not be hard, 

And science retard, 
By a grain of ill humor displaying. 

Be a mistress of arts, 

As well as of hearts, 
Our studies pursuing together; 

There'd be nothing amiss, 

Should I practice the kiss, 
I'd be solving the problem forever. 



160 TO CLARA LOUISE. 

I can prove by the book, — 

You will find if you look, — 
That giving is 1 letter than taking; 

So if you'd as leave, 

The kiss I'll receive, 
And as donor two bless'd you'll be making. 



f o I 



a.LARA LOUISE. 



WHO CRITICISED ONE OF THE BARD S EFFUSIONS. 

ISS Clara Louise, you have broken the ease 
Of a youth, whose name shall be nameless; 
You might think him to blame, should he mention his 
If he don't, why of course be is blameless. [name, 

On the boat we have met, and I think of you yet, 
Tho' a long time has past since our meeting; 

You left for the shore — I saw you once more, 
As to peanuts yourself you were treating. 

I can still see, I think, of your eyes the soft blink, 

As the fire-fly's light, they meander; 
I may be obtuse, but I've wish'd you a goose, 

And that I was your favorite gander. 



TO JULIE. 161 

Your cheeks, I declare, with peaches compare, 
As well as your smiles and your dimples ; 

I remember it well— by your lips' pouting swell, 
There arose two such sweet little pimples. 

Dear Clara, I close;— of each charm to dispose,— 

(How well every one I remember),— 
I should die in despair, tearing my hair— 

'Twould take me from now to December. 

February, Uth, 1873. Yours truly, 

Incognito. 



fo |ULIE. 

ISS Julie, I met you one day, 
I think 'twas to school you were going; 
The weather was cold;— by the way, 
On the tip of your nose it was snowing. 



Your cheeks were as red as a rose, 
Your eyes with fun they did glisten; 

You were thinking of me, I suppose, 
And you laugh'd, 'till I stopped, just to listen. 



162 TO JULIE. 

You came to a puddle of ice, — 
Bad luck to the sidewalk scrubbers ! — 

You went down on your back in a trice, — 
How I wished that you'd had on your rubbers. 

Before I could wink, you were up, 
And laughing more gaily than ever; 

While Frank Dayton's yellowish pup 
Stood wagging his tail, to be clever. 

Since that morning my heart has felt weak, 
I scarcely know what is the matter; 

I think 'tis your eye and your cheek; 

But you know that I don't want to natter. 

Feb. 14th, 1873. Your's eventually, . 

Tom Stiggins. 




*Zj^ 



Iines to my Washerwoman. 



H Sukey ! thou queen of the suds ! 
Thou most saponaceous of women ; 
Thou has wrung out my heart with my duds; 
Thou hast mangled it up with my linen. 

Thou hast robbed me forever of peace, 
Tho' I've paid thee for dozens of pieces; 

To torture me when wilt thou cease ; 

Dost thou wish to boil out all my greases? 



Thy scrubbing-board is not as rough 

As thy treatment — thou'lt be my undoing. 

If thou'dst smile, I'd be happy enough; 
Thou frown'st, and I'm bluer than blueing. 

Thou'rt acting upon me as lye, 

I'm shrinking, dissolving, I'm parching; 
Thou'dst better now hang me, — (to dry), 

I'll be stiff enough soon, without starching. 



§ HE glRLS. 

Air: — Kate Kearny. 

IBISS* "' ''"' ilr; " 1 ' M ' 1 ' ~' r1 ^ '" >u ""- v " vl us ' 

iP Jgffll How they bother, tormenl and abuse us! 

With ogles and smiles, 

Coquetting and wiles, 
They fuddle, they weedle, amuse us. 

One day for Belinda I'm itching, 
The next one, in love I'll be pitching, 

With Amanda or Josie, 

With Bessie or Rosie, 
So killing, so coy, so bewitching. 

O Susie, don't say that I'm fickle, 

That I'm caught by a smirk or a freckle, 

You fancy, you jade, 

Of your tongue I'm afraid ; 
But I'm fond of you, Sue, as a pickle. 

There was Kate, the divine little creature, 
So faultless in form and in feature ; 

How she w r ounded my pride, 

When she put me aside, 
To elope with that Godless old preacher. 



THE GIRLS. 165 

Polly, as spry as a cricket, 

Her poor little heart she would stick it, 

At any who'd take it, 

To love or to break it, 
To slight it, to play with, or kick it. 

Georgie, so sweetly beguiling, 
So delusively gushing and smiling; 

She'd prate of love's pain, 

With the utmost disdain, 
My hopes to Jerusalem exiling. 

Dear Clara, the Goddess assuming, 
As Flora herself is, as blooming; 

Not a day in the week, 

But the blush of her cheek, 
Some heart to destruction is dooming. 

Ella, the roguish "enchanter, 

To her beauty I yielded instanter; — 

I was terribly down, 

When she cut me for Brown, 
And courted for weeks the decanter. 

Jessie was truly provoking, 

She never would cease from her joking; 

If of love I but spoke, 

My ribs she would poke, 
And advise me, my head to go soaking. 



166 THE GIRLS, 

Ann, such a sweet little saint was, 
In her soul, there of sin not a taint was; 
Her humor to please, 
I must down on my kness, 
And pray till I addled and faint was. 

Maggie was awfully funny, 

Her moods were all mustard and honey, 

She'd play the coquette, 

Then fly in a pet, 
Then jump from the cloudy, to sunny. 

Delia, so wild and romantic, 

With crotchets she drove me near frantic; 
Her battles to fight, 
She dubbed me her knight, 

As her fool, I cut many an antic. 

Peg had a spice of the tartar, 
She was Susie again, — only smarter; 
Her thumb I'll be bound, 
She twisted me round, 
Till I suffer'd the pangs of a martyr. 

Alicia so dreamy and mazy, 

As blooming and fresh as the daisy, — 

Don't tell me of blisses, 

I revel'd in kisses, 
Till with ecstasy drunken and crazy. 



THE GIRLS— Continued. 167 



Eliza, so gay and so witty 
So wild, so adorably pretty; 
The pert little minx, 
I'm dying, she thinks, 
So I am, but I'm dying for Kitty. 
March 12th, 1873. 



Continued, Oct. 12th, 1873. 

Louise, your bright eyes are distilling, 

Glances so wickedly killing; 
As lightning they dart, 
To each love stricken heart, 

That to die for you's only too willing. 

Elnorah, in mischief would revel,— 
We never could meet on a level ; 

The salute, did I try, 

The missiles would fly, 
Till my countenance look'd like the devil. 

Oh, Sarah ! how can I forget you? 
Forgive me, 'twas wicked to fret you; 

Two rose-buds so tempting, 

To think of preempting, 
How could you '? I never could let you. 



168 THE GIRLS.- -Continued. 

Emma, I kneel to confession; 

From those rubies I took an impression. 

So delicionsly sweet, 

I again would repeat 
A thousand times more, the transgression. 

Mamie, to light, up your eyes, now. 
Your sweet little soul how it flies, now, 

Such expression and grace, 

In each feature to trace, — 
Had you wings you'd be off for the skies, now. 

Friends tell me from follies to sever, — 
I'm aging — that prudence will never 

Permit them to pass, 

Then Prudenc's an ass — 
I'll dote on the darlings forever! 




|0 j|.ANNIE, 



Air, 



The Hakp that once Thro' Tara's Halls." 



il 



HE bard whose muse in lofty flight 
So lately spread the wing, 
Now leaves him in a woful plight; — 
The stupid jade won't sing. 



So crow'd the cock in clarion tones, 

The champion of the fight; 
Now hail'd with curses, sneers and groans, 

He shows the feather white. 

In pity do not blame the bard, 

But to forgive him try ; 
For oh ! 'tis hard — 'tis fearful hard, 

To sing when one's so dry! 




^0 fROF. §. |. f ROST. 



VES^ EAR friend, how ofl memory reverts to the hours 
BBaSI I past m your pleasant retreat: 
To the hills, and the dales, the streams and the flowers, 
And the friends, I with pleasure could greet. 

How often the streamlet I wander'd along, 

To feel with old Walton the thrill, 
As of echoing notes of some long ago song, 

From lips that were long ago still. 

While the grass was yet wet with the lingering dew, 

With my rod I would hasten away, 
To fish the clear stream where the witch-hazel grew, 

With the trout leaping ; — eager for prey. 



Tho' small was the catch, yet the pleasure was great, 

To a student and dreamer like me, 
As hiding, I'd cautiously offer the bait, 

And wait the finale to see. 

While memory would teem with the olden time lays, 

Extoling the trout fisher's art, 
No wonder impassion'd they sang in its praise, 

With nature so prompting the heart. 



A FANCY. 171 

The murmuring brook, the caroling birds, 

The meadow, the whispering breeze; — 
If there's song in the soul to be echoed in words, 

It will gush to the bidding of these. 

It is joy, on the lake and the river to look, 

And the voice of glad waters to hear; 
There's a song in the murmur and flow of the brook, 

To the soul of the angler dear. 



jlANCY. 



]«^B(>Ut]ic breath of ray mistress go straying, 
EJaaii Where the wild thyme with zephyr is playing. 

But to seek for the blisses, 

Which meet in her kisses, 
Short of heaven, — 'twere madness betraying ! 




flY I OAT. 



M 



IS joy, in my boat, 
I On the billows to float, 
With a wind that is steady and free; 
O'er the rumpling tide, 
So swiftly to glide, — 
O, this is the pleasure for me ! 

The jockey may brag 

Of his two-forty nag, 
As he whollops his lathering hide; 

But when he is done, 

It is miserable fun, 
And he yet, to the devil may ride. 

In my tight little boat, 

On the billows to float, 
With a wind that is steady and free; 

O'er the rumpling tide, 

So swiftly to glide, — 
O, this is the pleasure for me ! 



THE GIRLS THAT WE LOVED LONG AGO. 173 

You may go it by steam, 

With a snort and a scream, 
"With a puff and a shiver and shake; 

A volcano below, 

With no one to know 
How soon an ascension you'll make. 

Then give me my boat, 

On the billows to float, 
With a wind that is steady and free ; 

O'er the rumpling tide, 

So swiftly to glide, — 
O, this is the pleasure for me! 



tm^f^l, 



f HE flRLS THAT WE § OVED fONG f^GO 



HERE are smiles of such exquisite meaning, 
There are voices like music that flow ; 



Only seen, only heard when we're dreaming 
Of the girls, that we loved long ago. 

Where are they, those once so loved faces? 

Thro' the mist of long years, how they glow ; 
Alas ! time has left his sad traces, 

With the girls that we loved long ago. 



174 THE GIRLS THAT WE LOVED LONG AGO. 

As the leaves by the blast, they are scatter'd — , 
Some are sleeping the green sod, below; 

Some by false hopes are wasted and shatter'd — 
Are the girls, that we loved long ago. 

The charms that bewitch' d us departed, — 
(They were fleeting as roses that blow;) 

With the song — with the laughter light-hearted, 
Of the girls, that we loved long ago. 

We gaze with a sigh upon faces, 
That with youth still seducingly glow ; 

As we fancy we read in them traces 
Of the girls, that we loved long ago. 

Though our hearts may be harden'd and colder, 
Tho' our locks may be sprinkled with snow, 

May a spark in our bosoms still smoulder, 
For the girls, that we loved long ago. 




©0 &LICE. 



At Lake Waccabuc. 



I 



EAR Alice, in the atmosphere 
Of Harlem, there is something queer; 
In fact, we are quite dumpish here, 
Since you left for Waccabuc. 



The sparrows chirp a dismal lay, 
From morn till night; they seem to say, 
Our little friend has gone away ; 
She's gone — she's gone to Waccabuc. 

A smallish dog passed by your door; 

His back, his tail was wagging o'er; 

He paused, — it dropped, — he wagged no more, 

He knew you'd gone to Waccabuc. 

The music-box is mute — is dumb, — 
The castinets, the bells, the drum, 
Are heard no more; but when you come, 
They'll welcome you from Waccabuc. 



176 TO ALICE. 

Last evening on the stoop I sat, 
As melancholy as a bat, 
When some one whispered to me, that 
I'd better go to Waccabuc. 

But no, indeed! I will not go, 
Somebody there, perhaps, you know, 
Would say, " there, now, I told you so, 
I knew he'd come to Waccabuc. " 

' ' For an old fellow, turning gray, 
'Tis really too absurd, I say, 
To have him going on this way, 
For Alice, here at Waccabuc." 

Tho' Alice, with each fleeting year, 
Some joy, some grace may disappear, 
The youthful feelings still are here, 
I'd have them know at Waccabuc. 

And did I fail to greet with joy, 
As friend the blooming girl or boy, 
Then life were dross and base alloy. — 
So say to them at Waccabuc. 

The child of song is ever young, 
He's Fancy's own, and dwells among 
Eealms of beauty yet unsung, 
Surpassing — even Waccabuc, 



TO ALICE. 177 

There! that is what they'll call a flight, 
From common sense quite out of sight ; 
The ravings of a rhyming wight,— 
Won't they now, at Waccabuc? 

Dear Alice, will you write, and say 
How you pass the hours away, 
Or have you quite forgotten, pray, 
The friend you left for Waccabuc? 

Sit down and tell me all the news, 
Are any of the boarders Jews'? 

Does Mrs. G wear ugly shoes? 

What say they there at Waccabuc? 

Write and tell me who are who, 
What they say, and what they do, 
Who are gay, and who are blue 
Among the belles at Waccabuc. 

Have you been fishing on the lake ? 
How many gudgeons did you take? 
Or did a monster black bass make 
Way with your line at Waccabuc? 

I hope you didn't tumble in, 

And soak yourself from foot to chin; 

But if you did, it was a sin, 

To use you so at Waccabuc. 



178 TO ALICE. 

You never should, had I been there, — 
I would have taken every care; 
Plunged in the lake, I do declare, 
And rescued you from Waccabuc. 

There's dangers in the country, dear, 
Which we in Harlem need not fear; — 
We're troubled with cockroaches here, 
There 're horrid things at Waccabuc. 

When rambling down the flowery lea, 
You dreadful darning-needles see — 
Now hide your pretty mouth, or he 
May sew it up at Waccabuc. 

You wander to the shady dell, 
Where grows the violet and harebell, 
But there the gally-nippers dwell, 
That suck your blood at Waccabuc. 

You seek retreats where zephyr blows, 
Whose whisperings lull you to repose, 
When down upon your very nose 
A monster drops at Waccabuc. 

You rove along the babbling stream, 
While of some fairy-land you dream, 
When suddenly you scream a scream, 
For down your neck's a straddlebug. 



TO ALICE. 179 

With morning's blush away you hie, 
To breathe the breath of meadows, nigh; — 
A grasshopper hops in your eye 
And maddens you with Waccabuc. 

When twilight steals o'er dale and hill, 
You hear the plaintive whip-poor-will, 
And stay out till you get a chill, 
From falling dews at Waccabuc. 

You gather berries from the brake, 
And garlands of the oak-leaves make, 
Oh Katie, was'nt that a snake? 
Away you fly from Waccabuc. 

You gaily trip by laughing rill, 
Where droops the fragrant daffodil, 
With slimy mud your slippers fill, 
The oozy mire of Waccabuc. 

You're thinking of — I won't say who, 
The birds are warbling over you, 
A spider huge appears in view, 
Hung from your hat at Waccabuc. 

You pluck a wild flower down the lea, 
Its breath inhale, and beauties see — 
Good gracious! was that thing a bee? 
He stung my nose! oh Waccabuc! 



180 TO ALICE. 

As beautiful, as sunset dyes, 
You chase the flitting butterflies, 
When, hang him! right into your eyes 
A punkey goes, at Waccabuc. 

When morning wakes the distant hills, 
When dancing sunbeams kiss the rills, 
And music through the woodland thrills, 
I own 'tis sweet at Waccabuc. 

At noon when sultry beams descend, 
To woody streams when cattle wend, 
Deep in the forest-shade I'd spend 
The noontide hour at Waccabuc. 

When daylight closes o'er the vale, 
And evening primrose scents the gale, 
Twere joy upon the lake to sail 
With those we love at Waccabuc. 
Yours truly, 

No Waccabucek. 





LINES WRITTEN IN 



ISS % N'S Ji t LBUM. 



OU gave me this book, with a smile to indite 
A sentiment, could I refuse ? 
With head so unsettled and aching 'tis quite, 
Imposing upon my poor muse. 

Oh! would that we might in some far away place, 
When life and its struggles are o'er ; — 

Continue forever thro' time and thro' space, 
The friendships here kindled before. 

And oh ! that the smiles which are beaming so bright, 

To crown my poor efforts to-day; 
Could follow me ever life's journey to light, 

And cheer with their sunbeams my way. 




182 LINES WRITTEN IN MISS O'LEARY'S ALBUM. 



LINES WRITTEN IN 



«,RS. I N'S &LBUM. 



E have met and have mingled our laughter and 
And now comes the moment for parting ; [smiles- 
When friendly communion so sweetly beguiles; 
Who will frown, thro' a sigh should be starting ? 



LINES WRITTEN IN 

WlSS S'IIeARY'S SlBUM. 

V3 ">3J ^y tt-cJ 



<s 



|tQ'Ojr\'I> been married this many a year, 
[yLjyj Now sunshine -now shadows come dreary; 
But if ever I'm single again, 
I'll be thinking of you, Miss O'Leary! 




So Iellie. 



f ^ EAR Lellie, how the time has flown, 
jaBM] 'Tis near a month since last we met you, 
And many a month will fly — I own, 
Before the friends you made, forget you. 



As blooming as a forest rose, 

An air of gladness breathing round you, 
With eyes whose sparkle, cheeks whose glows, 

With beauty teem'd, — 'twas thus we found you. 

May innocence that lights your smile, 
May joyous spirits long be with you; 

May youth and health each care beguile, 
And Heaven its choicest blessings give you. 




f THE fflSSES 



WHO REQUESTED ME TO WRITE — MENTIONING EACH NAME. 



I jSSl EAR girls it seems an age since I 
EBbu ('Twas just two weeks ago to-day;) 
Did at the depot say "good-bye," 
And sad to leave you, steam'd away. 

I'm sure I never can forget, 
The merry hours we past together, 

The walks, the talks, the songs are yet 
And will be in my thoughts forever. 



Louise, your pleasant face I see, 

Good-nature , there was wanting, never, 
But still a quiet dignity, 

Would keep me at a distance, ever. 

Elnorah, do you recollect, 

What happen'd to that fishing pole ? 
You did the damage, I expect, 

While I was busy taking toll. 



TO THE MISSES 185 

Encounters follow'd thick and fast, 

Defiance — you could ever look it; 
Shrimps, syrup, flour, I stood the blast, 

Revenge was sweet, and faith, I took it ! 

Sarah, your smile, your winning grace, 

Your eyes, your blush, your ways betwitching; 

Could I behold so fair a face, 
And not for one poor kiss be itching? 

I fear'd sometimes as round we'd race, 

Before to catch you, I was able; 
Some dire misfortune would take place, 

And we'd capsize the dining table. 

When caught, you know what follow'd well, 
A scream acknowledged you a goner; 

Somebody'd say "what for you yell! " 
And I'd skedaddle round the corner. 

Emma, dearest, tho' the latest, 

Thus do we a feast prepare; 
Substantiate first — but the sweetest, 

Is the desert everywhere. 

Emma do you ever miss me ? 

Who have you to tease you now? 
What a rumpus we made — bless me ! 

It was fun, you must allow. 



186 MY DEE AM. 

How I'd race you to the kitchen, 
Up the road and down the lawn ; 

When I caught you, how you'd pitch in, 
Pout and scold, for dresses torn. 

Such a dream I dream'd about you, 
Sure was never dreamed before; 

Dreams were shabby dreams without you, 
From dreams I wake, to miss you more. 



MY DREAM. 

I thought with " Knots Untied" that I was seated. 
In that old arm-chair down upon the lawn. 

The sighing breeze my senses softly greeted, 
The brisk mosquito, sounding was, his horn. 

The bumble bees were bumming all around me, 

A saucy gnat was tickling my nose; 
Where e'er I went, the blackguards always found me, 

An apple drop'd upon my corn-cursed toes. 

Just off into a doze, as I was going, 
Quite unsuspecting coming harm or care; 

You came so shyly up behind me throwing 
That horrid hornet's nest beneath my chair. 



TO THE MISSES 187 

That seat of cane, I lost no time forsaking,— 
'Twas poor protection from the attack in rear; 

With fearful howl, tracks for the house I'm making, 
As thro' the kitchen door you disappear. 

Good gracious ! James, oh dear, what is the matter? 

Cries Mrs. C— awaking with a scream; 
As with the bed clothes, I the hornets scatter,— 

A tumble on the floor, cuts short my dream. 



f THE fflSSES 



ikW|lSSES Blank, I send you greetings! 

I sSaail l Thanks for answer to my letter, 

For your kind reception of it, 

May you ever be as merry, 

As you were at the perusal ; 

Louise, your answer pleased me muchly — 

I do hereby send you greetings, 

I, the rhyming wight call'd Cromwell, 

With X. M. as antecedent; 

Not old Oliver, the Round Head, 

Otherwise called the Protector, 

Who the English so bamboozled, 

Stuffed with psalms and dry saltpetre 



188 TO THE MISSES 

In the shape of blasting powder; 
That they hoisted good King Charlie, 
Found him guilty of King's-evil, 
And to cure him chopped his head off; 
Making the said ancient Cromwell, 
Of the realm High Cockalorum. 



Should you ask me do I miss you? 
Miss the songs you used to sing me, 
Miss the romps, the fun, the frolic, 
Miss the boatings, and the rambles 
Thro' the woods and over fences, 
Down the road to railroad crossing, 
Where as pilgrims oft you tarried, 
To the Gods to pay devotion ; 
Past the rock that had an odor 
Fish-like as of ancient herrings; 
To the Indian well and chair too; 
Sarah, deeply sympathetic 
"Were my feelings for your bruises, 
When from that stone fence you tumbled, 
By the mill to " Rock of Lover's," 
Where Elnorah, you and I, sat 
Listening to the what-you-call-'ems, 
Singing to the thingcombobums; 
Up the hill beside the mill-pond, 
Where upon a time we wander'd, 
Emma you and I together; 
And you carved your pretty name there, 



TO THE MISSES 189 

On the bark of that old chestnut, 
While a student botanizing 
Tulips I found in perfection. 

Do I miss you ! yes, I miss you ; 
Miss you like the very dickens ! 
Miss the songs you used to sing me 
All about that little bonnet, 
With the huckleberry trimming, 
And the waterfall of bretzel, 
Which was certainly convenient, 
Should the wearer ever suffer 
For the want of fresh provisions; 
All about that gallant lover, 
Brave O'Neal and fair young bride too, 
Who went sailing to the bottom, 
With the ship in Bay of Dublin. 

All about that little joker, 

Hid away among the roses, 

Who enjoys phlebotomizing, 

The fluttering hearts of willing damsels; 

Don't you let the rogue Tom fool you. 

Keep the fellows at a distance, 

When they come with airs exquisite, 

Filibustering around you, 

English collars, mutton whiskers, 

Stovepipe hats, and parson neckties, 

Bob-tail coats and stripped trowsers, 



190 TO THE MISSES 



Light kid gloves and patent leathers; 

Got up in the pink of fashion; 

Drat them, don't you let them kiss you ; 

Make the flunkies know their places. 

Say to this one — "get along now; 

Sir! I don't allow such doings! 

Do you take me for a noodle ? 

Drat you, go to — go to hlazes!" 

At another, should he tease you, 

Let fly Webster's Dictionary, 

Unabridged and Illustrated; 

Give it to him, hot and heavy; 

Tell him of deosculation, 

You've an utter detestation, — 

Think it horrid — diabolic — 

Such spontaneous combustion, 

Discombobulates digestion, 

Necessitating sudorifics, 

Phlebotomizing, anthelmintics ; 

This, no doubt, will make them stagger; 

Wilt them down like tripe in pickle! 

As a clincher tell them kindly 

That the train will be in waiting, 

By the time they reach the depot; 

Give them every one the mitten. 

Be good girls till I come see you, 
I will try then to amuse you. 
I will tell you all about it, 



TO THE MISSES 191 

All about the Pumpkinville news,* 

All about his cousin Shadpole, 

Zachariah, his christian name was; 

How to see the elephantus, 

He to town, invited Zekel, 

How the mumps took Hanner Jane, too; 

How the dumps upset her parents, 

In consequence of the said mumping; 

I will tell of Zephaniah, 

How he came a courting Susan; 

One effect of the said courting 

Was that Lemuel looking blue, was, 

Who, poor devil, Susan jilted! 

For the killing Zephaniah. 

All about that parson scandal ; 
Dorcus Jones and Cynthy Gray too; 
What a horrid naughty fellow ! 
How because Ruth was so ruthless, 
Deacon Squaretoe took to drinking. 
All about that pup of Rachel's, 
All about old dried up brindle, 
All about the widow Grim too, 
How she jined the hard-shell baptists; 
All about the school-marm spanking; 
All about the Tom cat chawing, 
By that obdurate dog, Towser; 
All about those long-tail squashes, 
The advance in garden sasses; 
All about Jemima's baby, 



See Pumpkinville News. 



192 TO THE MISSES 

Whose hair was as red as blazes; 
Jemima caring not a hooter. 



I will tell of Uncle Pete too, 
Patience Drybones and her wig, too, 
Warming-pans and hump-back dresses, 
Indian meal and man of soap-fat, 
Tooth extracting, yearth-quake shaking; 
All about Jerusha's pill, too, 
Which was antiflabergistic; 
All about that rumy Peleg, 
Who would take his toddy slyly, 
Unbeknown to Mrs. P. too. 

All about that Shang-Hai rooster, 
Who so envious of the hens was, 
That he laid a bigger egg now, 
Than a hen has ever dared to. 
I will sing of that church fair, too, 
Where they took you in and done you ; 
Where they sold boquets and kisses, 
Gals so tarnal sweet and stunnin — 
Don't I wish that I had been there? 

I will tell of that old Phelem* 
O'Slaughterdy, I think his name was, 
Who the quality was top of, 
Who was raised in that tine mansion, 



* See Adventures of O'Slaughterdy. 



TO THE MISSES 193 

With the speckled pigs and mare, too, 
That belonged to Timothy Finnegan. 
I will tell of those old breeches 
That he of his father borrow'd, 
Unbeknown to the said daddy; 
Of that petticoat, so famous, 
That belonged to his grandmother, 
Made into a carpet satchel, 
Where that pair of brogans packed was, 
With the Donnybrook newspaper, 
Which had all the latest items, 
Just the prettiest sort of reading, 
For a boy like the said Phelem. 
I will tell you all about it, 
How he went upon his travels, 
How the ship was toss'd about so, 
That the sea upset his stomach, 
And deprived him of his breakfast, 
Which capsized into his cap, was, 
While a dreadful pain across him, 
Raked his inwards all to smitherins. 



Should you ask me, what's the meaning 
Of this blather, bosh and nonsense, 
Without either rhyme or reason, 
Whether I have lost my senses, 
Am in fact rum compos mentis, 
(In other words, am getting luny), 
Where you'll find some other like it? 



194 TO THE MISSES 

I will answer, — I will tell you, — 
Go and listen to the waters, 
To the little babbling streamlet, 
Laughing, leaping, dancing, brawling, 
With its sandy — pebbly bottom, 
Sparkling in the glinting sunbeams, 
While the little pollywoggers 
Wagging all their infant tails are. 

I will answer, — I will tell you ; — 
Through the moaning forest wander, 
When the autumn winds are sighing, 
When the withered leaves are scatter'd, 
Caught up in the whirling eddies, 
Shivering, rustling, sweeping onward, 
Crushed beneath the plodding footsteps, 
Flitting in the dying sunlight, 
As it sinks below the hill-tops, 
While the calling of the Blue Jay, 
Wierdly sounding in the distance, 
Chimes with nature's air of sadness. 

Should you tell me there was never 
Such a string of idle nonsense, 
Such a want of rhyme and reason, 
Such a hodge-podge put together; 
I will answer — I will tell you, — 
Should you now insist upon it, 
How I got it in my noddle. 



TO THE MISSES 195 

I will tell you, go and read it, — 
Tell you go and read the romance, 
Read about old Yankeef ungo, 
Read about old Bullybottom, 
Read about sweet Biddy Dolan, 
Otherwise call'd Cranky Biddy, 
By Longfellow christen'd Henry, — 
Wadsworth coming intercedent, — 
Read the " Sons; of Hiawatha." 




■K Simile. 



O t 



m 



EHOLD! a rocket seeks the skies, 
In bright array ascending; 
Exploding bursts in gorgeous dyes, — 
In smut and paste-board ending. 

Tis thus the base soul doth arise, 
Of gold and glare, the minion ; 

Awhile aloft triumphant flies — 
To fall with drabbled pinion. 



'Tis thus vain hopes with tempting ray, 

Will lure to our undoing; 
With ruddy light illume the way, 

And die, while we're pursuing. 

'Tis thus we chase the glittering charms, 
Our eyes that blind with flashes; 

Which eager catching to our arms, 
We find but smut and ashes. 

As children, we are longing for 

With what we are disgusted 
As soon as ours, and prize no more 

Than rockets when they've busted. 



ify IfisiON. 

I^Sj^j N E morning on her way to school 

IBfiSairauu'ht in a summer shower, 

"With tripping feet, I chanced to meet 

My dainty dripping flower. 

" With my umbrella Miss " I said, 

" Allow me to protect; 

'Twere pleasure to thus shelter you, — 

I pray you don't object." 

She thank'd me with a dimpling smile, — 

A row of pearls I saw ; 

The voice I heard of singing bird, 

Which comes with winter's thaw; 

The vagrant bee in search of sweets, 

Her tempting lip would lance ; 

At hide and seek, from cheek to cheek, 

The rosy dimples dance. 

Her gray eyes witch'd me with a spell, — 

Those wonderous dreamy eyes; 

As deep a gray as morning's ray, 

When waking summer skies ; 

Her soul was looking from its depths, 

In each bright glance they threw, 

The ray, I thought, from Heaven was caught, 

That glorified their hue. 



198 



TO MR. AND MRS. HENRY HELD. 



Her hair was as the yellow floss, 

Too airy light to bind; 

Coy zephyr stray'd and dallying play'd, 

In golden clouds enshrin'd. 

I saw her to the school-house door, 

And there I left her then ; 

I never saw her like before, — 

I never shall again. 



@ 



o Sr. and §[rs. Henry Held. 



i E?V EAR friends, a shadow, dark and drear, 
gj=sj Has clouded all your skies; — 
A daughter, none can tell how dear, 
Low in the church-yard lies. 



She ever in the hearts of those 
Who loved her, will abide; 

Death, but a veil between you throws, 
Which memory casts aside. 



In innocence, she pass'd away, 
Unchanging bliss to feel; 

Your griefs, — too sacred to portray, 
Her virtues all, reveal 



Punctuation in 



BOTHER! the duce take the flies! 
Such crawling, and buzzing, and biting: 
On your nose, in your hair, in your eyes,— 
Confound it! I'll put up my writing! 



That rascal,— he's off like a shot;— 
He look'd now, as wise as a Solon; 
At the end of that line as he squat,— 
Of my period making a colon. 

He's lit on the tip of my nose, 
I'd give anything to dispatch him;— 
To semi-colons back there he goes, 
My comas to lengthen— duce catch him. 




Nonsense. 



OME people conversing your ears will assail, 
With idle repeatings and slang phrases stale; 
Long stories strung out that your patience so try, 
Lugging in every sentence a foolish "says I;" 
While others again who to bedlam should go, 
About every six words will tell you "you know." 
Others their want of good sense will confess, 
By repeating forever-and-ever " I guess." 
Some jabber away till they get in a sweat, 
And when asked a question reply with, "you bet." 
Ned shows approval for something you do. 
By pounding your back, with a " bully for you;" 
Poor Billy, all giggles, turns over his quid, 
And grins in your face with, "he did and he did;" 
Jones, a good fellow expresses surprise 
By blessing his soul and blasting his eyes, 
The colloquial powers of friend Simpson are small, 
They mostly consist of "yars — yars" with a drawl. 
There's pert little Susan as brisk as a bee, 
Her tongue's ever wagging Avith " says I, and says she," 
If you ask Smith a question of wisdom or folly 
For the tail of his answer he always has, " jolly." 
As you're hurrying along on your back should you trip, 



NONSENSE. 201 

That fool of a Sniffln bawls out, " let her rip." 

Hobby's a wit, but nobody knows it, 

His greeting is ever, " well Jimmy how goes it." 

Preserve me from Simmons, — he is such an ass, — 

His knock down argument is, "go to grass." 

Jake of your story expresses a doubt, 

With a leer of the eye and along drawn "geet eout." 

I cannot endure that niny Tom Fell, — 

To every assertion he lugs in, " do tell?" 

Kate with a laugh and complexion quite florid, 

At a rather broad joke, blunts out, "ain't he horrid." 

Pipes when a fellow has drank himself sick, 

Insists upon calling him, " tight as a brick." 

Stubbs you address and await a reply, 

The answer you get is, " that's all in my eye." 

Of stringing these rhymes should you ask me the use, 

I likely would tell you to, "go to the duce." 




§flSDOM §0- 



VAST with your blue devil croaking, 
This world is a world to enjoy; 
To be down with the dumps is provoking, — 

Then let us be jolly old boy! 
Don't squeak like a stuck pig, I tell you, 

When care shows his grimy old face; 
But tackle him, should he compel you, 
With the broadest of grins and grimace. 



Take counsel of one ye good fellows, 

To the lee of life's breakers who steers ; 
Who Time as he flies, only mellows; 

Who feels yet a chicken in years. 
Hypochondriacs let them go prating 

Of the duties we owe to mankind; 
This world, and its follies, berating, — 

Poor devils they're totally blind. 

The old adage,* had they their senses, 
In our cheerfulness plainly they'd see ; 

The indicative mood, — present tense is, 
So happy — what saints we must be ! 

This example humanity setting, 
Thro' life as we jocosly stray; 

*" To be good is to be happy." 



CATS. 203 

Night phantoms in sunshine forgetting, 
We'll write them down asses, who bray. 

Avast then, with blue-devil croaking, 

This world is a world to enjoy; 
To be down with the dumps is provoking — 

Then don't be a donkey, old boy! 



Air. — " BELIEVE ME IF ALL THOSE ENDEARING YOUNG 
CHARMS." 

jM'R||HAT Thomas cat that had that spat, 
[jg.CTl That caused thai fearful clatter, 
If he hadn't spat he'd had that rat, 
And that's what's the matter! 

Catullus. 



One moonshiny night at the window I sat, 

Coaxing my muse to inspire me; 
But vain the attempt — not a rhyme would come pat, 

JSTot a spark would she kindle to fire me. 



204 CATS. 

I gazed at the moon, and I gazed at the fence, 
Where a Thomas cat sadly reflected; 

And it struck me his misery must be intense, — 
So used up he look'd, — and dejected. 

When presently, up comes a brindly gray, 
His tail slashing 'round him like mad; 

From his looks, I well knew he had something to say, 
Such a speaking expression he had. 

He paused as he sighted the other feline, 

And glared with his yellowish eye; 
He twisted his head on one side, with a whine, 
And pointed his tail to the sky. 

This was wormwood and gall to a woe begone cat, — 

Devised with insulting intent, 
With as spiteful a yell, as of Satan begat, 

For the hide of old brindle he went. 

Such profanity follow'd; — 'twas shocking to hear. 

From the window, I hasten'd to get; 
When a boot hit insulted, a clip in the rear, 

And fencing offences upset. 




Epigrammatic. 

UP AND DOWN. 
Tom keeps his carriage, — 

His wife puis on airs; — 
They both before marriage, 

Mounted six flights of stairs. 

Much nearer to Heaven, 
While fortune did frown ; 

Her favors, once given, 
Soon tumbled them down. 



MY CRITIC. 

Sue hates my rhymes, 
And more's the pity ! 
She's lost her wits, 
And thinks she's witty! 



"OUR FATHER IN HEAVEN. 

SO SAID A TOMB STONE. 

Your father in Heaven ? 

Bless me ! do tell ! 
'Tis more than suspicion'd 

Your father's in Hell. 



206 EPIGRAMMATIC. 

A SOLACE. 
I never beheld a bald pate, 

From a cardinal's down to a boots'; 
But its owner's brain-work was so great 

It had dug his hair out by the roots. 



CONVINCING. 

Jack. — " She escaped by the skin of her teeth." 
Jim. — " You're mistaken Jack, — don't be a lubber! 
Where was the skin, (to be brief) 
When the whole set was set upon rubber?" 



THE FOUR TOMS. 

QUESTIONS FOR CRITICS. 

Am I Tom Moore, for sentiment? 

Am I Tom Hood, for fun? 
Am I Tom Fool and no mistake? 

Or Tom Titmouse his son? 




flOTHER |00SE foNTINUED. 



AMMY Ramson ripped his hose, 
Aunt Tabitha's fond of pig; 
Rebecca Jane go blow your nose, 
You nasty little twirlymagig ! 

Benjamin Butler took the spoons, 

Likewise pots and kettles; 
Which trying was to rebel coons, 

Depending on spoon victuals. 

Sister Fan, observed a man, 

Engaged in peeling eels; 
"You wretch," (cried she) "I'd like to see 

You stripped from head to heels." 

President Grant, importuned by his aunt, 

For a government situation; 
■"Aunty, (quote he,) such a muss there would be, 

They'd call it a slie 'ministration." 



208 MOTHER GOOSE.- CONTINUED. 

Bergh gave a purge, and sung a dirge, 
In a cock-pit at Pat. Duppy's; 

A prize lie found in snooking round, 
A bitch with six blind puppies! 

General Sheri — dan, you naughty man, 
Oh dear ! poor Lousy Anna ! 

What made you go, abuse her so, 
Upset her, and trepan her? 

Mr. Green, down town was seen, 
Looking somewhat yellow; 

A hungry calf, that made him laugh, 
For city funds did bellow. 

Dear Mother Goose, I've no excuse, 
I see I've made a blunder; 

I took your name, — I am to blame — 
Write me down, Sire Gander! 




f f,R. f ENRY §ERGH. 

P puppy dogs thou great defender, 
Of horses spavin'd, hotted, blind; 
Of cats, of kittens young and tender, 

Of calves, pigs, Jacks, of assine kind ! 
Brays, neighs, growls, grunters, all combin'd. 



The pups, oh! may they never bite thee! 

The nags, thee never kick nor throw! 
Nor cats, nor kittens, spit to spite thee,— 

May calves, pigs, asses, love thee so! 
Their great Jehovah, Jove or jo. 




^OMAN'S RIGHTS. 



Air. — " Straddle the Broomstick." 

fRjulh '^ give me your attention 
[BsSSyjl Good people one and all, 
What I'm a going to mention 

A fair one did befall, 
A damsel young and virtuous, 

Although of low degree; 
As blooming as a cabbage rose, 

A pleasant thing to see. 

She dwelt down in Connecticut, 

Where you would be amazed 
At the quantity of onions grown, 

And garden truck that's raised. 
Her father was a husbandman 

And till'd a smallish farm, 
And lived in peace and quietness, 

With 'Mirny and her maim. 



WOMAN'S RIGHTS 211 

She was the darling of her pa, 

Her mothers pride was she; 
Brothers and sisters she had none 

With whom to disagree ; 
And as she was an only child 

She did the usual way; 
She let her mother do the work, 

While she was nix for stay. 

Hard by their cottage there did dwell 

Another family; 
In circumstances different — 

They were the quality, 
Or, what was called the upper cru^t, 

By all the country round ; 
Her daddy was the under crust, 

Because he ploughed the ground. 

This family had several sons, 

And daughters, three or four; 
And there was no good reason why 

They shouldn't have several more; 
One of the sons, a nice young man, 

Just turned of seventeen, 
Had seen Jemima many a time, 

A romping on the green. 

Had met her at the shindy-digs 
And corn-huskings around; 



212 WOMAN'S RIGHTS. 

And many a sheep's-eye cast at her, 
Which hit her, — I'll be bound. 

Her friends soon whispered it about 
With frowns, and nods, and winks- 

A precious gudgeon she had hook'd, 
The brazen little minx. 

A maxim there is, old and trite, 

" Let them laugh who win." 
As long as they could have their way, 

The world might frown or grin, 
Now, as they saw their parents do, 

They wanted to go and git — 
And live together all their lives, 

According to holy writ. 

But here it happen'd once again, 

As it has happen'd before ; 
A cruel parent interferes, 

Which leastways was a bore; 
His pa allows with emphasis — 

In fact, a perfect gale, — 
He never shall marry Jemima Swipes 

While a tad-pole wears a tail. 

There's many a happy frog, I trow, 
Raised from a wee tad-pole; 

Perhaps it was this thought that did 
The lover's grief control ; 



WOMAN'S RIGHTS. 213 

If so, at fault their logic was, 

Nor hit the question plump , 
For a tad-pole is a tad-pole not, 

When he drops his tail for a rump. 

But love, they say is always blind. 

They did not see it thus; 
For logic or for reason — why, 

They did not care a cuss. 
Their eyes connecting telegraphs, 

In every smile and look, 
Sweet telegrams transmitted were; 

Their lips the impressions took. 

"What next? as the tadpole inquired when his tail 
dropped off." 

What next, you'll ask as tadpole did, 

The day he lost his tail ; 
No riddle it is, you know yourselves, 

For petticoats you'd go bail; 
She had her will — what woman don't? 

'Twere needless to contend; 
His pa gave in— she cards gave out, 

And here my tale doth end. 



If ast, Sresent and Euture. 

O'OJN life's early spring-time advancing, 
IKLBJl] Tbo' wild notes come sweet from the spray, 
Tho' the streamlet is brawling and dancing, 
We long for the blossoms of May, 

Lo! May comes, resplendent with blushes, 
Enraptured we welcome the boon ; 

Bloom, incense, bird warblings and gushes; 
Then sigh for the bowers of sweet June. 

June waves her green boughs as in greeting, 
Crowns us with laurels and palms ; 

Our transports sincere, — but how fleeting, — 
We wish now for midsummer charms. 



Looking round with a doubt — a misgivim 
As summer's late roses appear, 

We turn with a throb from the living, 
Perceiving chill Autumn so near. 



PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE. 215 

On the heels of old winter now treading, 
How we treasure the joys we have known, 

Nature varies her glories in shedding, 
Alas ! ours forever have flown ; 

We die — is the end the beginning? 
Die, — and the mystery's your own. 



